When the Past Learns From Us
by JadeyTheKitty
Summary: PostDH. Being a Potter should come with a warning label and an option for disinheriting the family. When you're a Potter, it's impossible to have a normal term at school. There's always something exploding, jinxes being hurled, and odd friends to be made.
1. One: First Encounters

**Chapter One**

**First Encounters**

_Warning: _The following story contains _Deathly Hallows_ spoilers and will make next to zero sense for those who have not read the epilogue.

_Characters Contained:_ Albus Potter, Rose Weasley, Scorpius Malfoy, more OCs than you can count

_Disclaimer_: I neither own nor make a profit off of anything from the Harry Potter universe.

_Status_: One shot. Complete for now. I may continue along this train when I'm more awake and it's not midnight.

_Other_: Written for my friend, Blair. Good luck with everything, mmkay?

* * *

Albus waved out of the window until several moments after his father and mother's figures had disappeared from view. The platform was still within sight, but the smoke from the train's engine had long since blocked the view of it. 

He pulled back from the window and glanced uneasily to his left and right. He knew that he needed to find a seat before all of them were taken – James had already warned him that he would end up sitting in the aisle during the endless teasing on the way to the station. The only time the question of where to sit had occurred to him while he was packing, though, he had always assumed that he would be sitting with James.

But on the way James had made it clear that he had his own friends to sit with.

Albus was going to have to make it on his own. Well, mostly on his own. Beside him, his cousin Rose was nervously chewing on her bottom lip and occasionally standing on the tips of her toes to get a better look down the length of the train. She needed to find a seat as well.

"Shall we start looking?" Rose wondered suddenly, craning her neck again to look as far down the train as she could.

Without much hope for thinking of a better idea, Albus nodded. After a moment's hesitation he pointed down the passage to the left, striking off in the lead after Rose nodded her agreement.

After a few moments of walking through the interior of the train, Al started to relax a little. He had been on a few muggle trains with his family, and this wasn't that different than one of them. From how James told it, Al had half-expected that the corridors were going to be patrolled by terrible monsters.

That was James talking, though. Who in their right mind could ever believe a word that came out of that boy's mouth? Not Al. No siree. From this moment on, he was going to shove all of the preconceptions from his mind that James had given him. It would make it a lot easier to do this.

Even with that new resolution in mind, Al kept his gaze on the carpeted floor for the first half of their journey, concentrating more on keeping his balance on the lurching train than on actually looking for a good place to sit. Thankfully, Rose took up the slack and scrutinized the compartment through each window that they came across. The first few compartments, they found, were full of older students, none of whom looked anything like his smirking brother. And none of whom looked like they wanted a few scrawny first years to sit with them.

"Oh, where are the ones with open seats? They can't really _all_ be gone. My mother told me that the train always has one more compartment. It's magical, you know, so that they can account for having more students one year, or…"

Albus was half ignoring Rose as he checked one more compartment window. When she started to get nervous, she talked. It was a Rose thing, and it usually didn't do much good to listen.

"It's the last one," Rose noted, cutting off her long spiel and peering over Albus's shoulder. She was shorter than he was and shoved down on his head to get his messy black hair out of her line of sight.

Albus frowned, ducking his cousin's hand and straightening up a few paces back. He didn't bother smoothing his hair down from where it had been mussed -- it always stuck up at odd angles anyway. "There's someone in there, you know."

He didn't know why that was so important, but it seemed like it was. There was always supposed to be an empty compartment on your first year, or you were supposed to sit with people you knew and liked. The boy occupying the compartment seemed to be messing up that particular theory. The look Rose gave him was enough to quell further arguments, though. Sometimes Albus thought she was a bit _too_ much like his aunt.

Seeing that Albus wasn't brave enough to offer any more objections, Rose brushed off her new Hogwarts robes, knocked once on the compartment door, and strode inside after sliding the door open. Albus hesitated for half a heartbeat before following. Whoever the boy inside was, it was Al's duty to keep his cousin from steamrolling him.

"--and there's nowhere else open, so I _really_ don't see that you have much of a choice in if we sit here or not," Rose was saying, focusing on the sole occupant of the compartment as Albus squeezed in behind her.

The boy that seemed to be bearing the brunt of Rose's bullying Albus noticed with a small start, was the one his uncle had pointed out while they were getting onto the train. He had pale blond hair that had been slicked back in a way Albus's hair would never manage, a sharp, narrow face, and a pinched expression as he watched Rose state her case.

"So, really," Rose continued, breaking Albus's train of thought, "you _can't_ tell us we can't sit here. And besides – it's not as if we'll bother you."

"Of course you won't," Albus heard the boy mutter under his breath. "You've already done plenty of that to last you all the way to Hogwarts, haven't you?" Aloud, he said, "Do what you want. I'll make sure my father arranges for a private compartment next time."

Looking slightly annoyed, but also rather pleased with herself, Rose sat down and motioned for Albus to take the seat beside her. Not without a bit of apprehension, Al took the indicated seat across from the pale boy.

"I'm Rose Weasley, by the way," Rose announced extending a hand. Albus could recognize the overly cheerful tone in his cousin's voice -- she was trying to make amends for bullying her way through their first encounter with the boy.

The pale boy simply looked at Rose's hand, his lip curling slightly until she hastily withdrew it, looking slightly hurt.

"I'm Albus Potter," Albus piped up pointedly. If this was how the boy was going to act, he understood why his uncle had instructed Rose to wipe the floor with the boy on their tests. He didn't really feel sorry for not stopping Rose's bullying now.

There was a moment in which Albus thought the boy was going to continue ignoring their efforts at being friendly, but then the boy sighed and waved one hand airily. "My name is Scorpius Malfoy. And I didn't need you two to introduce yourselves, did I?" The pale boy's gaze lingered on Albus's messy black hair, then switched to Rose and her prominent freckles and reddish brown hair.

Albus and Rose exchanged glances. It didn't seem like the Malfoy boy was going to make very good conversation.

"So, what do you think about Teddy?" Rose asked, turning away from Scorpius and bravely trying to break through the cold silence. "I think he's in love. Isn't it sweet?"

"Er… yeah."

Scorpius was giving Albus one of those _looks_. The kind James always used on him when he thought Albus was participating in something exceptionally childish.

If this train ride was going to determine what his classmates thought of him, Albus sincerely hoped things would take a turn for the better very, very soon. He was also beginning to hope that something would wipe that arrogant expression off of Scorpius' face. He knew that his dad had said to try to get along with everyone, but Albus was afraid that the boy wasn't likable enough for _anyone_ to get along with.

"Do you think he'll propose once Victoire finishes Hogwarts?" Rose prompted, eager to keep some sort of conversation going.

"Er, well…"

"Anything off the cart? A little sugar is the best way to fight down the nerves."

Albus grinned as a slightly plump witch poked her head into the compartment. He was saved! Even if everything else was going less than swimmingly, sweets were certain to make the world a brighter place.

Within moments, Albus had nearly emptied his pockets buying a bag of_Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans _and several boxes of_Chocolate Frogs_. Rose had watched him with a slightly disapproving expression on her face -- her mother had apparently cracked down on any and all consumption of candy after discovering Hugo had gotten a cavity. Scorpius had watched as well, and Al thought he might be acting as if he'd like to buy something, but was afraid it might ruin the aloof air he had been cultivating if he stood up to do so.

"James had one of these get away from him the other day," Albus told Rose conversationally, retaking his seat and holding up the candy box for inspection. "He squashed it with one of my new books when it tried to hop into the garden. I'm going to be hungry every Charms class; the book still smells a bit like chocolate."

Albus knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as the last word had left his mouth. Rose perked up, her expression brightening as she rummaged for her bag and lifted free her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1_; she had gotten it for her birthday only a few months ago and, as James had bluntly described it, had not shut up about it since.

"We should test each other on the way!" exclaimed Rose, her face shining with excitement. "Mum said that memorizing the spell books early on helped her quite a lot when she first started. I bet there's a spell in here for cleaning off your book, too."

Albus could only gawk. His aunt had said something similar when she'd given him his copy of the book as a present, but he'd thought she was joking. His dad had _laughed_ after all. _How was he supposed to memorize such thick books?_

Desperate to drag his mind away from that panicky line of thought, Albus opened his bag of _Every Flavor Beans_ and addressed Scorpius out of sheer desperation. "My brother told me the yellow ones are always okay to eat. Have you heard that?"

Not waiting for a reply, Albus dug through the bag until he found a yellow bean, ignoring how Scorpius was watching with a suddenly open interest.

As Albus popped the bean into his mouth, the compartment grew silent again as both Rose and Scorpius watched the dark-haired boy's face slowly turn pale, then a delicate shade of green.

"He's going to be sick," Rose whispered, wide-eyed.

Albus shook his head fiercely, struggling to swallow before making a face.

"Well?" Scorpius frowned. Apparently he had forgotten that he was too far above them to participate in any sort of conversation.

"Eggs," Albus managed in a slightly strangled voice. "Rotten eggs."

Scorpius' lip twitched slightly. Almost, Albus noted, as if he'd been about to actually _smile_. "I think I know now why father has never bought them for the house."

That statement even had _Rose's_ attention.

"You've never had them?" Albus asked. "_Ever?_"

Scorpius' cheeks colored slightly, and he hurried to regain his previous composure. "Obviously not. Rotten eggs, did you say? Why would I eat anything like that?"

Albus shook his head, digging into the bag, then leaning forward to force a red colored bean into Scorpius' hand. "_Everyone_ eats them. My brother's told me only kids from Muggle families don't have them -- you have to try at least one before Hogwarts, right?"

For a moment, Albus was sure that he had been too bold. It wasn't like they were friends enough to be trading sweets, right? Scorpius was likely to throw the bean on the floor just to spite him. Before Albus could sink down into his seat, however, Scorpius lifted an eyebrow at the sweet, then popped it into his mouth.

Scorpius was silent for a moment, and then-- "Cherry."

"Oh, I love cherry! Just let me have one, Al?" Rose pleaded, having watched the entire exchange with bated breath. "I can't stand it any more. Don't tell Mum, though. She'll be so displeased…"

Finally grinning again, Albus dug into the bag for first Rose, then Scorpius, who had held out his hand expectantly.

For the next half hour, Albus was content to share his bag of sweets and participate with the other two in guessing flavors and daring one another into sampling the dodgy-looking beans. Scorpius remained as aloof as he could while attempting to eat a pepper-flavored bean, but the atmosphere had lightened considerably.

Feeling slightly drowsy, Albus sank back into his seat. In a few more hours he would be at Hogwarts and he would have to give in to that gnawing anxiety in his stomach again, but for now he was going to relax.

"Scorpius, have _you_ started memorizing the books yet?"

Well… at least he would relax as much as his cousin would allow.


	2. Two: Sorting Loyalties

**Chapter Two**

**Sorting Loyalties**

_Disclaimer_: I neither own nor make a profit off of anything from the Harry Potter universe.

_Status_: It's midnight again, and here's another chapter. Good chance that I'll keep on, I think.

_Other_: Written for my sister, who wanted to see them Sorted. Are you happy now, Kirra? Look what you've done!

* * *

Albus slid the door of their compartment back as the sounds of excited voices started to fill the train. All along the aisle students were shouting back to their friends variations of, "Hurry up with your robes already!" and "Catch that foul animal – we're almost there!" 

Everywhere he looked, Albus could see the older students straightening their robes and rushing down the train to find the friends they hadn't been able to sit with on the way, obviously hoping to now catch seats with their friends in the carriages that Al could see waiting on a road in the distance. Prefects were wandering the train as well, keeping a sharp eye on the more rambunctious of the Hogwarts students and assuring the anxious first years that there was nothing to fear as long as they did as they were told.

"You'd think this was the train to the zoo," Scorpius drawled from beside Albus as he too peered out into the hall. "Just _look_ at them."

Albus winced slightly, then pretended to look at something immensely interesting down toward the opposite end of the train as James finally appeared with a bang, letting off a Fillibuster Firework with his best friend's aide.

It would be the perfect start to the term, Albus thought morosely, if James managed to drag him into something that would get them both landed in detention before he could even get Sorted.

The Prefect Al had seen pass by them earlier stalked back toward ground zero for James' latest prank, already lifting her voice to tell the third year boy that he had earned a detention for that joke. Al recognized her after a moment, and was happy that her current annoyance had not been turned on him in any way. She had long black hair and wore a pair of glasses, but James had told him that her bookish appearance hid the tongue of a real dragon. Her name was Madison Chang, and supposedly she was a sixth year and one of the strictest Prefects at Hogwarts.

"We're almost there!" Rose whispered excitedly, bouncing up onto the tips of her toes to see past Albus and Scorpius. "_Oh_, I'm nervous. Aren't you two?" She hadn't seen that James had gotten into trouble, or Al knew she would have already been having fits.

Scorpius merely rolled his eyes toward the ceiling in reply and returned to his seat. Albus attempted to offer his cousin a nervous grin, but stopped when he realized the best he could do was a grimace.

"Oooooh…" Rose moaned, backing away from the door and sinking back into her own seat as Albus sat down with a small thump in his. "_Why_ wouldn't Mum tell me how we get Sorted?"

"The Sorting must not be that important," Scorpius decided, sending a disparaging glance at Rose as she began to wring her hands. "Father would have told me everything about it if it was."

"Right." Albus wanted to believe the other boy, but Scorpius had steadily turned several shades paler as the Hogwarts Express neared its destination. After it had started to get dark, the pale boy could have easily passed as being whiter than a ghost. If _Scorpius_ wasn't even confident in what he was saying, far be it from Albus to be reassured by his words.

Rose paled herself as Albus turned to tell her that he was _almost_ certain that everything would be fine. "Oh! It's slowing down. Are we ready?"

Albus felt that he had never been less ready for anything in his entire life, but he managed to nod with only a small bit of difficulty. That was the extent of what he could manage at that point, however, for the train was grinding to a halt and an explosion of noise had just sounded off as students poured out of the compartments and into the aisle. Shortly after that burst of noise, an even louder one sounded as their partially closed compartment door was slammed open, making Albus and Rose jump.

"You're still in here?" wondered James incredulously as he peered in at them. "Hurry it _up_ already!"

Scorpius stood as Rose hurried to stuff her book into her bag. After offering a curt nod to Albus, he slid past James and disappeared into the surge of students.

James blinked, turning to watch Scorpius go for a moment before muttering an idle, "Git," and turning his attention back to Albus. "Got your mushrooms?" he wondered innocently, then laughed and dashed back out into the aisle as Albus immediately reached for Rose's bag, hoping to throw it at James' head.

"Mum said I _don't need any!_" Albus called after his brother.

Rose shook her head. "He can't hear you – c'mon."

There were several moments that convinced Albus that he was going to be crushed in the press of students before he could even step foot off of the train, but with Rose's help he finally managed to make it outside. Being out of the train didn't make Albus feel much better, however. Students were still chattering on to one another all around him, and he couldn't help but feel far too small and insignificant.

He almost wished that he had stayed home with Lily. She was probably just finished with dinner and begging for a game of Exploding Snap. Usually Albus was the one she always managed to talk into playing, but now…

Now he was at Hogwarts.

"FIRS' YEARS! FIRS' YEARS, OVER HERE!"

Albus _jumped_. He had known about Hagrid – he'd heard about him from his parents, then his brother. He was even supposed to join him for tea! He knew how gigantic the man was supposed to be, but he had never imagined anyone quite… quite like _this_. And he had especially not expected the gigantic Hagrid to be standing right behind him and _yelling_.

Gulping, Al stared up at the man's shaggy beard as Hagrid suddenly took notice of him.

"Blimey – yeh must be Al. Look just like yeh dad if you don' mind me sayin'. Hope yeh're not goin' to get into as much trouble as yer brother…"

Before Albus could let out more than a squeak, Hagrid had bent down enough to place one hand on Albus's shoulder and spin him around to face the lake he had missed until that moment.

"Best go find a good one, eh? Go on, now," Hagrid urged, giving Albus what he must have assumed was a gentle shove, but what turned out to be a push that nearly sent the boy headfirst into the lake. Albus sent on his way, Hagrid straightened to his considerable height, held his lantern high above his head, and resumed calling the first years to the boats.

"_Wow_," whispered Rose, climbing in after Albus as he shakily took a seat in one of the boats.

It only took a few more minutes for the rest of the first years to make their way over to Hagrid and the boats. Albus saw Scorpius giving a nearby boat a distrustful glance before climbing in, and then he turned his attention to another boy who was climbing into their boat. The boy had fair hair, and the smile he offered as he sat down was as shaky as Albus was feeling.

"All in? Righ' – hold on, now!"

Albus was half terrified that the little boat was going to speed off like some sort of coaster at the fair, but after the initial jerk, the boat glided effortlessly across the lake, following the giant form of Hagrid, who looked much to large for his tiny vessel to be staying afloat.

Rose gave a little squeak and tugged at first Albus's sleeve, then the other boy's sleeve. "There it is!"

"Hogwarts," breathed their companion.

Albus was more certain than ever now that he would really, really like to be at home. Hogwarts had always been described to him as amazing, but with the moon casting shadowy light down on the jumble of towers and battlements, Albus thought 'frightening' was a more accurate description. He had never seen a building or any sort of castle that was similar to Hogwarts. It was seven stories of stones held together by sheer magic. Several of the towers should have long ago tumbled into the lake.

And this was just the _outside_. What in the name of Merlin would the _inside_ be like?

"I hope they give maps to all of the classes," commented the fair haired boy, voicing Albus's own fears.

Albus shook his head. How could anyone avoid getting lost in such a huge castle?

Thankfully, the speed of the boats didn't allow much time for panicking at the overawing castle. Unheeded by foul weather, the little vessels sped the children across the lake and deposited them on the shore inside a cave. An elderly witch took over from there, nodding once to Hagrid before shepherding the group to a point just outside of a pair of enormous doors.

"The Great Hall is through here," she informed them crisply, peering over square spectacles at the fidgety group. "You will be called for shortly. Until then, remain here."

That said, the witch adjusted her pointed hat over her white hair and marched away, leaving the group to brew while they waited.

"She didn't say what we had to do for the Sorting," Albus murmured, looking to Rose for some sort of help, but she simply shot a terrified glance back at him.

There was nothing that could be done anymore. Albus gulped down another rising spell of panic and squeezed his eyes shut.

"I heard it's better to not think about the House you want in."

Albus glanced up at the voice to see the boy from the boat smiling a bit less shakily at him. "Huh?"

"Don't think about it," the boy repeated, motioning vaguely with one hand. "'s what my Grandfather told me, you know? House's don't matter very much anyway."

Unable to find his voice, Albus nodded. The boy grinned again and turned away, focusing his attention on the doors to the Great Hall.

"Maybe they let you switch if you're really not suited for the House," Rose muttered suddenly. "Maybe… maybe if you get in the wrong one, you can switch? They can't really test us this early, then pick a House from our answers, right? We haven't learned anything!"

As Rose went back to wringing her hands, Albus had to swallow back yet another wave of fear. The doors to the Great Hall had swung open and he was now being carried along in one of the two rows of students. He saw a brief flash of hundreds of faces watching him and the others, and then he focused on looking upward before his panic could force his stomach to betray him. The ceiling was dizzying to look at with its smattering of stars, however, and Albus reluctantly returned his attention to the room around him.

The stern witch from before was placing something on a stool. Whatever it was, it had drawn the room's attention away.

After a moment, it drew Albus's attention as well; it was simply too strange not to. At first he had assumed it to be just a pile of dingy rags, but upon further inspection he could make out a vaguely hat-ish form to it. It was heavily darned and patched, with several sections that looked badly burned.

And it was moving.

A seam ripped open somewhere near the brim, and what followed was a song that Albus couldn't quite recall after the Sorting had been done. It had something to do with the four Houses, he knew, and for some reason he couldn't shake the vague recollection that it had attempted to tie all of that in with why it looked like a burnt, misshapen marshmallow.

Whatever the song had been, it was driven from Albus's mind almost immediately. The only words that stuck were the hat's promise that, once it was on his head, it would know who he was and pick his proper House.

"Anthony, Hodgin."

Albus wondered briefly if his insides had just turned to ice, but quickly lost interest as the hat bellowed, "_RAVENCLAW!_" before it had even properly dropped down on the boy's head.

Three Gryffindors, a Slytherin, and two Hufflepuffs later, Albus began to wonder if he had any insides left at all.

"Kurtis, Bethany" became the third Hufflepuff, and then it was "Malfoy, Scorpius" who was being called.

Scorpius had dropped the air of superiority entirely at this point. As he walked up to the stool and took his seat, his face had turned almost as green as Albus's had after the _Bertie Bott's_. The spectacled witch dropped the hat down over Scorpius' ears, and waited.

It took a few seconds longer than it had for Bethany Kurtis, but the rip in the hat opened up again after a time and bellowed its decision to the hall – "_SLYTHERIN!_"

Albus was feeling truly ill as he watched Scorpius walk a bit unsteadily (though he seemed to be regaining his attitude with every step closer to his new House table) away.

"Piers, Flynn" became yet another Gryffindor, and then it was Albus's turn.

"Potter, Albus," seemed to have been spoken similar to the way Albus imagined a death sentence would be pronounced. Before he knew it, though, his legs had acted almost of their own accord and carried him to the stool. Once there, they gave out, forcing Albus to sit.

For one, desperate moment Albus scanned the tables. He managed to catch one glimpse of his brother making a face at him, and then the hat fell down over his ears.

There was a brief muttering in his ear that Albus couldn't quite decipher, but he deemed it the least of his worries. Albus's main focus for that moment was trying to rid his mind of thoughts of Slytherin. His dad had said he could choose, he knew, but he had forgotten to ask just _how_ to choose. The hat wasn't exactly asking him any questions.

What if it chose based on who a person knew in a House? He had a brother in Gryffindor, yes, but now he had a (kind of) friend in Slytherin! What if it balanced out, and then James' teasing about Slytherin got the hat to thinking he really _should_ be there?

It had happened before Albus even realized it; the hat had shouted out its decision.

Albus sat there for a moment, frozen. He'd missed it. What had it said? How was he supposed to know where to go?

The answer came as the witch in the pointed hat lifted the Sorting Hat from Albus's head. She didn't quite smile, but she frowned slightly less severely at him and pointed at the table he was to go to.

And that was when Albus decided that it should really be possible to die from misery. It was the table at which Scorpius had taken a seat.

To say the rest of the Sorting went by in a kind of blur for Albus was an understatement. After he had taken a seat in the spot by Scorpius, Albus had focused on staring at the empty golden platter in front of him and attempting to hold the misery at bay.

He didn't look up and attempt to catch his brother's eye to see if he knew how to get him out of this mess. He didn't pay attention when the boy from the boat, Michael Quoft, was sorted into Ravenclaw. He barely noticed when Rose took the Sorting Hat off and followed Michael to her new House table.

All Albus wanted to focus on was waiting and hoping that the evening would either get miraculously better in the next five seconds, or that the bloody ghost floating near the end of the table would come put him out of his misery.


	3. Three: Settling In

**Chapter Three**

**Settling In**

_Disclaimer_: I neither own nor make a profit off of anything from the Harry Potter universe.

_Status_: Few hours before midnight with this chapter. I doubt I'll update daily throughout this fic, but I will try to maintain some sort of close frequency.

_Other_: A bit shorter than the last one, and not as fun to write. I'm interested in jumping into the action with the next chapter. Also, as I'm currently writing this without beta assistance (through fault of my own -- I'm too impatient to get this updated and see how it flows to poke any of my friends to check it over), I'd appreciate it if any mistakes can be pointed out to me.

_Fun Fact:_ It's kind of amusing that I'm identifying so well with the personality Scorpius has developed. I went to middle school for five weeks, and on the very first day I had already uttered the words "--_when I tell my mother about this...!_" at least three times.

* * *

Thestrals _sounded_ terrifying. Boggarts _embodied_ terror. Banshees _created_ terror. 

This _was_ terror.

Albus had rarely had an occasion where so many of his favourite foods were being served for dinner. But… he couldn't bring himself to do more than pick at his meal once it had appeared.

Trying to distract himself, Albus had taken to watching the staff table and occasionally repeating silently to himself what his dad had said – it was okay for him to be in Slytherin. His parents didn't care one way or the other.

His uncle did, though. And his uncle was his dad's best mate. Maybe they secretly thought the same? Albus couldn't bear the thought. Even if it was just his uncle who thought badly of Slytherin, it was still going to be hard to bear. And that wasn't even taking into consideration how James was going to act. He wasn't going to be welcome in his Uncle Ron's home _or_ his own home.

"Attention, please!"

Albus wrested his attention away from the flip-flops his stomach was performing. Up at the staff table, a man that looked slightly younger than his Grandpa Weasley was standing up to give the gathered students a fleeting smile. He was tall with shoulder length hair that was quickly graying, but still shone through as formerly blond if one looked closely enough. His robes were rather muted, but the man had made up for that by wrapping a brightly coloured scarf around his neck with the insignia of the most recent victors at the Quidditch World Cup emblazoned upon it. His pointed hat leaned slightly to one side, thanks to a large rosette that had obviously come from a trip to the World Cup as well.

He had never seen the man before, but Albus immediately recognized him from James's descriptions as Professor Mark Quoft, the headmaster of Hogwarts.

"I'm sure you all know that you should make ready to go to bed and catch a good night's sleep before lessons start…" He paused for a moment to glance out at the students, looking slightly amused. "_Should_ being the keyword. I, personally, am well aware that many of you will forego sleep entirely to catch up with old friends – I know I did."

The stern-looking witch from earlier gave a pointed cough and Professor Quoft looked guilty for a moment before continuing. "On any account, I'd like to direct new students and students with selective memory alike to refer to the list of items not permitted in the halls. It can be found at our dear caretaker's office."

"Git," said a girl sitting several seats down from Albus.

"Lastly for today, I wish to point out again that the Forbidden Forest does not contain the vast amounts of gold, Chocolate Frog cards, or mystical treasures that your older siblings may have 'accidentally' mentioned in your presence. It does, however, contain several centaurs who have told me quite plainly that they would dearly love to skewer the next student who comes to their forest armed with naught but a shovel and wand." Quoft smirked slightly. "So keep that in mind, and off with you."

Albus stood automatically with the rest of the students and bit down on his lip as he attempted to figure out where to go. It only took him a few moments to spot the Slytherin Prefect who was waving for the first years to follow him to the common room.

The trip to the Slytherin common room was anticlimactic compared to everything that had already happened. After his Uncle Ron's descriptions of how horrible Slytherins were, Albus had half expected to see all sorts of frightening things on his way down into the dungeons of Hogwarts. Despite his fears for the worst, the only real problem Albus had noted was that the passageways through the dungeons seemed to have been built to confuse all sense of direction.

Well… another bad thing was how tight the staircase spiraled on the way down to the staircase. It made Al more than a little dizzy, and twice he had stumbled.

"It's a bit… _damp_," Scorpius decided abruptly as they reached the end of the hallway the Prefect had led them down.

Albus would have jumped at the way the pale boy seemed to materialize out of thin air at his side, but he didn't have the energy. All of the excitement and nerves had worn him out more than running a marathon would have.

Scorpius lifted an eyebrow and tried again. "If the common room has mold growing in it, you can bet that my father will hear of it. It's likely he'll come to the school himself and order the caretaker to do something. He'll tell him to get down on his knees and scrub, I suppose."

He knew he was supposed to give some sort of response along the lines of how amazing Scorpius's father must be, but Albus could only nod glumly.

A frown flitting across his face, Scorpius snorted and continued on after the Prefect, stopping a short distance in front of Albus as their group reached what appeared to be a solid stone wall.

"Everyone listening?" the Prefect called sharply. There was a smattering of unconcerned agreement, which he seemed to take as the best answer he would get. "Right. _Asphodel_."

Before their eyes, the blank wall slowly slid back to reveal the common room within. The brief impression Albus had left him thinking that the common room was vaguely creepy, and not a place he would want to study in.

Not allowing Albus to look too closely at the green-tinted room and its low ceiling, the Prefect directed the First Years to either side of the common room. The passageway on the left led to the boys' dorm, and that was to where Ablus marched with Scorpius in the lead and three of his future classmates bringing up the rear.

Scorpius walked smartly down the tunnel that led down to the boys' dormitories, passing the seventh year boys' dorm along with the sixth, fifth, and fourth. From that hallway he took a left and went down another tight flight of stairs before finally ending up in the hall that the first year boys' dorm was located.

Albus mused to himself that Scorpius seemed oddly confident about where he was going even with the less than specific instructions the Prefect had given. Al figured that Scorpius' dad must have told him how to get to the dormitory.

They were another family that had been in a House for generations just like his had, but in Scorpius' case the tradition hadn't been broken.

Once Albus had found his bed he wasted no time in burrowing under his blankets and tugging his pillow over his head. He didn't want to deal with anything else until morning. He _especially_ didn't want to deal with being a disappointment.

The last thing Albus heard before finally drifting to sleep was Scorpius complaining loudly to him that the green curtains on their four-posters weren't made of _real_ silk, and that he was going to Owl his father first thing to get new curtains sent.

o-------o

"It's not my responsibility if you're late."

Albus muttered something noncommittal and rolled away from the voice, accidentally tangling his blankets up as he went.

"Everyone else has gone already," Scorpius informed him.

Once again, Albus ignored him. He hated waking up to the idea of being in Slytherin, but he liked how the sun couldn't possibly shine down into the dungeon dormitory. It meant he could get back to sleep quite easily. In his bedroom at home, the sun had always had an annoying way of waking him up.

"I really will leave you."

Well, he would get to sleep as soon as Scorpius followed through on his threats. After nearly half an hour, however, Albus was beginning to wonder if the other boy would _ever_ leave.

The silence since Scorpius's latest threat seemed to stretch for an impossibly long time. It was long enough to assume that Scorpius had finally given up. Assuming such a thing was a near-fatal mistake, though.

Scorpius Malfoy _always_ had his way. He _always_ won. He wasn't about to let some messy-haired, sulking twerp change that.

"_Levicorpus_," Scorpius intoned, and Albus let out a yelp as the spell lifted him bodily from the bed, then dropped him unceremoniously onto the cold stone of the floor when the counter-spell was muttered.

"_Hey!_"

Scorpius simply smirked at the reaction and turned to leave the room. "I'll see you in the common room, then."

Scowling to himself for a moment, Albus scrambled to his feet. Turning his attention to the trunk at the end of his bed, he set to work pillaging it for his clothes and Hogwarts robes (complete, he found, with their new Slytherin crests). After only a few seconds of searching, he found a handful of Slytherin ties that had been laid out beside his trunk and rushed through looping one around his neck before making his way out into the common room.

Scorpius smirked at Albus as he arrived, and the day began.

When they reached the Great Hall, the mail had already come, so they paused at the Slytherin table only long enough to retrieve a few pieces of toast each and continue on their way to their first class – Charms.

Scorpius's only comment on the class once they had finished was, "Charms work – it's really quite boring, don't you think? Charms are used for _decorating,_ after all."

Albus wasn't sure if he agreed. He'd seen his mum do some fairly amazing Charms, after all.

"It's a real shame classes don't teach proper hexes," Scorpius continued; Albus had noticed that the boy didn't really need an answer to continue a conversation. "I suppose there's always hope that we'll learn something in Defense Against the Dark Arts." Scorpius curled his lip, obviously doubting that something with 'defense' in the name would teach what he wanted to learn.

"Dad says just about everything he was taught here was useful at one point," Albus said as they continued down the hallway. He was starting to doubt a few thing his dad has said, though. Half his enemies had been Slytherins, so how was he going to be alright with his son being one?

Scorpius lifted his shoulders in the barest of shrugs. "It depends on what you consider useful, doesn't it? You could say a _scouring_ charm was useful."

Albus shook his head slightly and allowed Scorpius to continue on in that vein, complaining about how slow classes were for starting off, and how he really hoped their other classes would be more challenging.

Scorpius, Albus was finding, was like that. All he needed was the equivalent of a brick wall to throw his ideas and opinions at. He didn't really want an answer, usually. That, it seemed, was why Scorpius had chosen to drag Albus around through classes. Of all of the Slytherin First Years, he was easily the quietest and most agreeable.

Albus wasn't quite sure what he thought of any of that, but he had to admit that listening to Scorpius talk the day away was making things seem a lot less difficult. The way Scorpius told it, he would be running Hogwarts and have everything changed to his liking within the week. Though that scenario itself was entirely unlikely, it did lighten things up a little.

Actually, it lightened things up a lot. Some of Scorpius's more ludicrous claims had even managed to get Albus to grin a few times.

All in all, his first day at Hogwarts wasn't going so badly. Albus Severus Potter was settling into the new routine already.


	4. Four: Friday Morning

**Chapter Four**

**Friday Morning**

_Disclaimer_: I neither own nor make a profit off of anything from the Harry Potter universe.

_Status_: I'm going off to an anime con today, so I can't guarantee a chapter for the next few days. I may surprise even myself and get one up if the hotel has internet access, however. I'll be doing a poorly done cosplay of a random Slytherin as I've forgotten my makeup for my Reno cosplay. Should be fun.

_Other_: Still short, but this one was a bit more fun to write. I'm still building up to the actual story line, here. I hope it doesn't seem to be dragging while I work toward that point.

_Fun Fact:_ I met an eleven year old yesterday. I had forgotten how tiny kids are at that age! I've got a better mental image of the first years now.

* * *

"_Honestly, _you have to wonder how they do it." 

Albus glanced up from his bacon with a start. "Sorry?"

Scorpius gazed at Albus with open dislike for a moment before motioning at the breakfast table. "Staying _hidden_, Albus. Really, you should pay more attention. The number of house elves required to prepare this much food must be quite large. And yet do we see them?"

"No?" Albus ventured, chewing absently on his bacon. "We're not supposed to, though."

Scorpius gave Albus another frustrated look. "That's my point, isn't it?"

Unsure what exactly Scorpius was getting at, Albus chose to smile wanly and nod. It usually worked. It didn't take long to figure out what sort of person Scorpius was and sort out how to pacify him.

After a moment's more open annoyance, Scorpius turned to his own breakfast, placated for the time being. "What are the classes today, anyway?"

It took a few minutes digging in his bag before Albus could find his class schedule. Once he'd tugged it from between his copies of _A__Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ and _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_, Albus held his bacon in his mouth and traced one finger down the parchment.

"Double Potions in a half hour," he said finally. "Looks like Herbology after that, then the afternoon off."

"We'll meet the Potions Master, then." Scorpius frowned, idling picking up a salt shaker and scrutinizing it before replacing it on the tabletop. "Who do we have the class with?"

"Ravenclaw."

Which boy jumped more, no one could tell.

Shaking her head at the two, Rose took a seat beside Albus as if she sat at the Slytherin table every morning. A few older Slytherins shot her nasty glances, but she didn't seem to notice. Al recognized that she was in steam-roll mode.

Albus opened his mouth, then closed it, managing to bite down on his tongue before he could ask, "What're you doing here?" and risk upsetting Rose. Scorpius's lips thinned into a tight line as he struggled with whether to be affronted at the interruption or not. Finally, he settled for his best expression of cool disinterest.

"We'll have to walk together, the three of us – four, if Michael gets here in time," Rose continued.

"Er… well… okay," Albus managed, watching in mute amazement as his cousin pulled out her Potions book and a sheaf of parchment, which she quickly began scribbling notes on.

Rose glanced up suddenly at Scorpius. "Are you going to finish those eggs? No? Thanks, I'm starved."

Albus suppressed a grin at the horrified glance Scorpius shot him as Rose promptly reached across the table to retrieve his plate without his saying a word in answer.

"I've been up since four trying to get the hang of these formulas," was Rose's only explanation as she scribbled another note down before helping herself to the eggs.

Albus found himself mildly amused through the remainder of breakfast. He continued to be amused as the three of them left the Slytherin table and began to make their way back to the dungeons for Potions Class. After all of the worry he'd had about being sorted into Slytherin, Albus was glad to find that at least Rose didn't think to treat him any differently.

Within sight of the Potions classroom door, Rose's friend Michael caught them up. Apparently he'd had the misfortune of running into Peeves and forgetting to ask one of the doors along the way to _please_ open. Peeves had upended a rubbish bin in his path and the door had made him apologize for ten minutes for his rudeness.

Once the four finally entered the Potions classroom, Albus found himself wishing that he had done a bit of preemptive studying as well. There was a long, complicated list of items written out on the board, and a puce coloured example-potion was already simmering at the head of the classroom.

A thin, balding man nodded curtly to the four as they entered. "Take your seats."

Albus followed Scorpius to a table on the left side of the room while Rose forced Michael to sit in the very front row on the right side of the room. Once they had taken their seats, Rose turned to flash Albus an excited grin before turning back to face the professor.

"It's amazing no one's jinxed her yet," Scorpius said quietly, lifting an eyebrow at Albus.

"I might hex them if they did," Albus retorted coolly.

Scoripius was silent for half a beat before offering a lazy smirk. "_Potter_, I'm surprised. A threat? You might make a Slytherin yet."

Whether he was supposed to be pleased at this or not, Albus didn't find out. The professor tapped his wand against the board to gain the attention of the class, and the last straggle of students hurried to take their seats.

"Professor Borage," the professor stated bluntly. He didn't wait to let the introduction sink in. "I'm sure you all are wondering how you will ever manage to brew a potion even as simple as this one during your first class."

Albus hid a smile as he noted how Rose was clutching at her notes, ready to tackle _any_ level of potion-making that was thrown at her.

"Forgetfulness Potions are useful in many ways. Though, likely, not in the ways your adolescent young minds will think of. They are not, in fact, a potion to trick your little friends with." Professor Borage surveyed the class with increasing dislike. "I don't suppose any of you have any idea what is used to thicken this potion?"

Two hands immediately shot into the air. Albus and Scorpius exchanged bemused glances as Rose shot Michael a disbelieving look. His hand had beaten hers into the air by a matter of seconds.

"Flobberworm mucus," Michael supplied when the Professor nodded to him.

Professor Borage nodded again, looking slightly bored. "Mm, yes. Five points to Ravenclaw, I suppose. You're the headmaster's grandson, aren't you? Yes. Pity it won't help you pass this class. Now, flip to page twenty-one and pray you have an acceptable level of reading comprehension. You have eight minutes, and then I want you all to bring out your caldrons…"

o-------o

"That was brilliant!" Rose exclaimed, very nearly bouncing as they made their way from the dungeons.

"Not for me," Michael complained. "The whole class is a blur now…"

Scorpius smirked, but didn't say anything. He had been rather amused when Professor Borage had the boy used as a test subject for Rose's potion.

Rose ignored Scorpius, turning on the spot to face Albus and press a scrap of parchment into his hand. "Don't forget about tea with Hagrid this afternoon – I'll see you there, okay?"

Albus nodded. "Right."

Pausing only long enough to beam at Albus, Rose grabbed Michael's arm and hurried him down the hall, urging him to pick up his pace lest they be late for Transfiguration and have Professor McGonagall transfigure them into pocket watches.

"God, I didn't think anyone could talk so much," Scorpius declared as Rose disappeared around a corner.

Albus lifted an eyebrow in the way he'd seen Scorpius do on more than one occasion. "I dunno. Reminds me of someone else who likes to talk."

For the second time that day, Scorpius was silent. Then a slow smirk played across his lips. "You know, I think you're getting the hang of that."

Albus grinned sheepishly. "I have to, don't I? Otherwise you'll walk over me."

"Who's to say getting a backbone will stop that?" Scorpius retorted, amused. "It just means _other_ people will give you more respect. The same rules aren't going to apply to _me_."

Albus just shook his head and followed Scorpius as the pale boy took the lead to Herbology. Sometimes he wondered how Scorpius's head didn't explode with such an enormous ego.

But then again, Al thought with a small smile, James had a bigger ego than anyone in the school and he still had _his_ head by some miracle.


	5. Five: Friday Tea

**Chapter Five**

**Friday Tea**

_Disclaimer_: I neither own nor make a profit off of anything from the Harry Potter universe.

_Status_: Currently, I have a bad head cold. I'm a bit timid in writing anything after this chapter until it goes away, as even counting to ten gives me trouble when I take the supposedly 'non-drowsy' cold meds. I should be better and updating again within a day or two. Thank you, everyone, who has favourited this, reviewed, or put it on their alerts. I wouldn't still be writing this without the support.

_Q&A: What will the pairings be in this story?_

Well, we'll just have to wait and see, won't we? This is still the first week of Hogwarts, and these kids are all fairly young. They're more concerned with what might be lurking under their bed right now than how to propose to the girl in the next dormitory over. Depending on how many years I cover, pairings are likely going to begin developing, but we'll have to wait and see til then. Any pairings mentioned by Rowling for the older generation will likely be used.

_That teacher hasn't retired yet? Fang's still alive? You know dogs and cats only live about 15-20 years, right?_

Okay, so this one hasn't been asked yet, but I'm heading it off at the pass. I'm taking a leaf from another wizarding book and saying wizard's pets tend to pick up some longevity after being around magic for so long. And as for the teachers who will appear in later chapters, I plan to keep many of the older teachers, as witches and wizards have a much longer lifespan than muggles. Dumbledore was 150, and there was at least one witch older than him without help from anything like the Philosopher's Stone.

_Alert: _Is anyone well-versed in the _Harry Potter_ fandom willing to check me for mistakes? I've been leaning heavily on my sister to pick up on anything I miss, but I currently don't have an actual beta for checking my grammar and everything else on this fic. If anyone's interested, leave a review.

* * *

Albus ducked between two fifth years with their arms piled high with books and burst out onto the grounds before either of the older students could properly begin to tell him off for his carelessness. He continued his mad sprint for as long as he could, and then paused to lean on his knees and catch his breath. Once the stitch in his chest had receded, he tugged a scrap of parchment from within his robes and examined the messy scrawl of words. 

_Rosie,_

_When you've finished your lessons, how about coming 'round for tea around 12? Your mum told me that you like animals. Fang'll __be happy to meet you. Remind Al and tell him the time._

_-Hagrid_

A quick glance at his watch told Albus that he was already ten minutes late. And he still had a bit of ground to cover before he reached Hagrid's hut.

Cursing himself again for not coming straight from Herbology, Albus took a few more gulps of air and sprinted off across the grounds again. He had to slow down almost immediately when the ground sloped, but Albus eventually found himself staggering, out of breath, up to the door of Hagrid's hut.

Oooh, the stitch in his chest hurt. Al thought that maybe James was right about him being a lazy lump – he wasn't nearly as athletic as the older boy and it really showed after that sprint.

"Down! Down, yeh great lump – down, I said!" came a roar the moment Albus worked up the courage to knock on the door. The yells were accompanied by great, booming barks that made Albus shake where he stood.

The door swung open a second later to reveal Rose. Albus had a small second to see Hagrid behind her, holding a giant boarhound by the collar, and then his cousin grabbed his arm and tugged him inside.

"We thought you'd gotten lost," Rose told Albus immediately, eyeing him closely as she dragged him across the small interior of the hut until they reached the single table and both sat down.

"Did yeh have trouble findin' the place?" Hagrid chimed in, worry creeping into his voice. He hadn't even thought of giving directions…

The boarhound, sensing his master's distraction, tugged himself free and promptly laid his head on Albus's lap.

"Don' mind 'im," Hagrid said quickly, shooting an exasperated glance at the dog as Albus grew very still in his chair, afraid to move. The dog, oblivious, wagged its tail hard enough to shake his entire body. "Fang's abou' as dangerous as a flobberworm."

Albus, who had never seen a live flobberworm, continued to eye Fang with suspicion. "Err… right," he said slowly, shoving tentatively at Fang's muzzle in an attempt to move him, but having no luck at his endeavor. "Anyway, sorry for being late. Had to walk back to the common room to put my books away. My, er, friend wanted to borrow them for something, I think."

Rose's lips formed a thin line. "Malfoy wanted them, I'm guessing? Oh, _Al_, you shouldn't let him try to make you late like that. You _shouldn't_. It'll only encourage him."

"He didn't _try_," Albus protested. "It wasn't on_purpose_."

"Come off it. You know very well that he did," Rose shot back, her eyebrows narrowing dangerously now that Albus was trying to tell her that she was wrong.

Albus felt his face begin to flush pink, but ignored it in lieu of scowling at his cousin. "Why is it that you know him so much better than me now? Have you been talking to him lately? You certainly haven't been talking to _me_ until today."

"Le's not fight. We're all here now, and tha's wha' ma'ers," cut in Hagrid, dropping a pile of rock cakes between the two children. "Yeh're parents wanted me to check up on yeh and see how yeh were. Neither of yeh want me ter be sending 'em an Owl tellin' them how yeh're fightin' over nothin', do yeh? No? Good."

Hagrid looked between the two for several moments until Rose looked down at her hands and Albus sank back into his seat. Another few seconds later, he seemed to decide the air was cleared. "Saw yeh're brother in me class today, Al," Hagrid continued, far more amiable now. "Asked me ter give yeh summit from him."

Albus blinked in surprise. James wanted to give him a gift? That didn't sound like the older boy at all.

"'Course I refused." Hagrid regarded Albus from the corners of his eyes. "Reckoned yeh wouldn' have much use for a snake, even if the bugger was 'armless."

Albus's expression clouded again immediately. _That_ sounded more like James.

Hagrid shook his head. "Don' let it bother yeh. Yeh shoulda seen 'im when one of 'is mates made a crack at yeh bein' in Slytherin. Thought he would jinx the kid righ' then, meself."

Unsure what to say, Albus gingerly lifted one of the cakes from the plate and regarded it for several moments before deeming it entirely inedible and gently returning it to its place.

The rest of the short visit with Hagrid went relatively painlessly. Hagrid asked them both how their classes were getting on and told them a bit about the creatures they might run into at Hogwarts. One particularly nasty creature, a blood-sucking bugbear, sounded the most frightening to Albus – especially after he heard that the creature had only just recently escaped one of Hagrid's classes.

It didn't take long for the shadows outside to begin growing long. When Hagrid noticed, he sat down his tea and started to usher the two to the door. He stopped and glanced askew at Albus once they were outside.

"Got summit to tell yeh about yeh're House, Al."

Albus stiffened, but Hagrid correctly guessed that he wouldn't be thrilled with the topic and was already hurrying on. "'m not sayin' the House itself is bad. If it's got yeh in it, it must have summit great abou' it. 'm jus' goin' ter give yeh a warning, if yeh'll have it."

"Alright," Albus agreed uneasily, frowning at Rose's back as she tactfully removed herself from the conversation under the pretence of inspecting Hagrid's garden.

"There's some Dark Wizards that came out of Slytherin," Hagrid continued, continually glancing at Albus as if not entirely sure it was his place to be telling him this. "They come from other Houses, too, but 'm jus' sayin'. It's not my place ter be tellin' yeh anythin' abou' the kids in yeh're House – don't know 'em well enough to judge. I knew their parents, though. And some of their grandparents."

Hagrid seemed to struggle for his point for a moment before thumping Albus on the back and concluding gruffly, "Jus' watch yerself, Al. The worlds a be'er place than when yer parents were 'ere, but it's still not as bright as it should be."

Albus nodded mutely and forced a wan smile into place. "Thanks, Hagrid."

"Don' mention it." Hagrid smiled uneasily, then shook his head. "One other thing, Al. Yeh should write yer parents. I don' think anyone else 'as told 'em yet, but yeh can be sure yer brother will if you don'."

On the way back to the common room, Albus turned Hagrid's words over in his mind. He also thought about the quick, almost tearful hug Rose had given him along with a whispered apology before rushing off for the Ravenclaw common room – he was already trying to think of a way to make it up to her after their small row. They had to stick together, after all. If he went home for vacation and didn't have Rose to back him up, James would quite gleefully murder him.

As he mumbled the password and made his way into the first year boys' dormitory, Albus thought about Hagrid's words again.

Watch himself?

For what?

Blinking at the dim interior of the room and the small touches the other boys living there had put up to make themselves feel more at home, Albus couldn't see anything that would suggest a darker side to his classmates.

Eric Lepine was a slightly obsessive fan of the Wigtown Wanderers, but that was about as strange as the other Slytherin boys had revealed themselves to be in the few conversations Albus had had with them.

Albus shook his head to himself. He'd had a lot of worries about Slytherin when he'd first been Sorted, but now that he was getting used to it he couldn't see anything _horribly _wrong with at least the first year portion of the House.

"Potter! Finally done with your tea party, are you?" Scorpius, as usual, seemed to melt out of thin air, though in reality he'd just entered from the common room. "Hurry and see what my father has sent me. _Surely_ you noticed the entire common room literally_oozing_ with envy when you walked through? He's sent me a broom."

Albus's reply was cut off as Scorpius seized his arm and gave it a sharp tug, eager to show off his new possession.

No, Albus thought. He couldn't see anything particularly evil about Slytherin House. Not unless one counted being _spoiled_ as a deadly sin, that is.


	6. Six: All in Good Fun

**Chapter Six**

**All in Good Fun**

_Disclaimer_: I neither own nor make a profit off of anything from the Harry Potter universe.

_Status_: Thanks again for the reviews and well-wishes. This fic is doing far better than I would have ever imagined -- in fact, it almost has more hits than the first in my _Marauders' _series. As such, I'm going to keep plugging along. Still have a bit of a cold, so updates may be a tad slow.

_Other: _I develop an insane love for OCs sometimes. And secondary characters in general. Because of this, there will be several chapters like this one that will switch to other points of view. We're back to Albus and picking up the pace in the next chapter.

_Alert: _Is anyone well-versed in the _Harry Potter_ fandom willing to check me for mistakes? I've been leaning heavily on my sister to pick up on anything I miss, but I currently don't have an actual beta for checking my grammar and everything else on this fic. If anyone's interested, leave a review.

* * *

James Potter was very much like his namesake in many more ways than he was aware. He was also like his grandfather in ways that he knew all too well. He reveled in the fact, actually, that he could be so closely related to such a legend. 

James, of course, had learned all about his grandfather from exasperated stories his father had told him. Most of these stories had had quite a lot to do with the trouble James was currently knee-deep in, and all of them were meant to show what was _not_ the proper way to go about things.

For example: it was apparently not proper to spell a Slytherin upside down and have a good laugh at him.

According to his mother, it was a "very wrong thing to do."

His mother also thought that putting dirty silverware back into the drawer was a "very wrong thing to do", but she normally didn't send him Howlers about that.

Honestly, though, James couldn't be bothered with those silly 'rule' things that all of the adults seemed to insist existed. As such, things that were "very wrong" equated to "very fun" in his book.

One of his favourite "very wrong" activities included making his younger brother's life a living hell. He would have split his pranks between his siblings, but his younger sister tended to cry when he illegally magicked spiders into her bar soap. Albus was tough, though. James didn't need to feel guilty about anything he did to the younger boy.

It was difficult, however, to torture (all in good fun, of course) his brother when he was in another House. Now _that_ had been a shock. It did help combine his pastimes of bugging the living hell out of Slytherins and bothering his brother into one fun-packed package, however.

Grinning to himself at all of these lovely thoughts that would eventually add up into immediate entertainment, James edged around the corner and peered intently out at the corridor leading past the Great Hall. Moments ago it had contained two first year Slytherins – one with black hair and the other with blond.

It was empty now.

"If I'm asked to be a character witness at the end of whatever you're up to, I'll have to lie," came a slightly amused voice from behind James. "And you know how I hate that."

Rather than jumping in surprise as would normally be expected of someone who was most definitely up to something he shouldn't be, James simply tossed a lazy grin over his shoulder.

James's best friend was a boy with dull, pale brown hair that looked almost boring when compared to James's own auburn-tinted brown. James rather fancied that their personalities paralleled their hair colours.

The brown-haired boy, Callum Anthony, frowned back at his friend. "_James_…"

Heaving a sigh, James wondered for the umpteenth time that year how they had ever become friends. Callum could be such a spoilsport when he took on that Prefect-in-training tone. "It's nothing bad."

"Nothing bad?" Callum repeated. "Nothing bad, like the time you switched everyone's quills with sugar quills before the History of Magic essay?"

"Maybe slightly worse than that…"

"_Nothing_ bad," attempted Callum again, "like the time you decided to see _how_ hot a cauldron had to be before it melted. Which led to the unfortunate incineration of my school bag, half my books, and both our eyebrows?"

James considered that one for a moment before slowly nodding. "Back-track a bit, Cally. This is about three rungs lower on the 'nothing bad' scale."

"Don't call me that," Callum muttered automatically before heaving his own sigh. "Right, then. I've got a rough idea and I've resigned myself to at least two week's detention – what are we doing?"

Why Callum always had to assume the worst, James really didn't know.

"This isn't as bad as what you did in the common room last week?" Callum demanded when James returned to watching the entrance hall intently.

Silence met this question.

"_James_."

The dark haired boy waved off his friend's incessant worrying with one hand while raising a finger to his lips. It was time to put his plan into action.

Checking both ways to insure that no one was on their way through the hall, James threw another grin back at Callum and stole across the hall. After a moment's painful hesitation, Callum followed.

o------o

"No, James."

If James heard him, he made no indication.

Callum's frown deepened. "I didn't show you the _alohamora_ spell for you to use it like this, you git."

"Prat," James tossed back off-handedly, and continued to rummage in the Quidditch storage shed.

"This is three week's detention here." Callum's eyebrows furrowed as he watched James struggle to drag a large trunk out into the open.

It took a moment more of frowning, the worry-lines between his eyebrows deepening, before Callum leapt away from James and the trunk as if it contained a particularly rabid nest of doxies.

"_Merlin_, James. _No_."

"_Yes_," James retorted with a gleeful grin.

"That's the Quidditch balls there." Callum shook his head slowly in disbelief, his eyes never leaving the trunk as James tapped his wand on it sharply to pop the latches and open it up.

James's words were slightly muffled as he'd stuck his head into the trunk for a closer look. "You're right observant today, mate."

Callum's eyebrows lifted. "Yes. Yes I am. You do know this is a felony, I hope? Tampering with this."

The look James shot him left Callum quite certain that James not only_knew_ the full illegality of his actions, but was also extremely _pleased_ with his foul self for thinking of it in the first place.

"Merlin, help us," Callum muttered at last.

"Help _you_, mate."

"Help the professor we're in detention with for the next month."

"Them too," allowed James.

Callum crouched beside James, hurriedly moving to push down on the violently jerking ball the other boy was struggling to release. Between the two of them, they managed to wrestle the lone bludger from the crate without smashing their noses or receiving more than a few bumps and bruises.

"Ready?" James panted, grinning widely at Callum.

Lips thin in concentration, Callum glanced off in the direction of the Quidditch pitch where two boys could be seen taking turns on a new broomstick.

"You're a horrible person," he tried in one last, forlorn attempt to change James's mind.

Rather than waste valuable time replying, James simply nudged Callum in the ribs.

Taking the signal, Callum released his grip on the bludger and hit the ground at the same moment as James.

Together they watched the bloodthirsty ball shoot up into the sky, circle once in an almost uncertain fashion, and then streak towards the pitch.

"Mum's going to _murder_ me," James declared.

Callum was convinced that the other boy seemed far too excited by the prospect of his imminent demise.


	7. Seven: Letters From Hogwarts

**Chapter Seven**

**Letters From School**

_Disclaimer_: I neither own nor make a profit off of anything from the Harry Potter universe.

_Status_: This is what happens when you tell a writer to make longer chapters. You get shorter ones.

Okay, okay. I'm kidding. This is just a bit of fun. I'm almost better, but not quite. Since I don't feel up to writing a coherent chapter, I thought I'd put this up in the meantime as a thank-you to everyone who's been reading this. I've never had so many hits on a story. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

_Alert: _Is anyone well-versed in the _Harry Potter_ fandom willing to check me for mistakes? I've been leaning heavily on my sister to pick up on anything I miss, but I currently don't have an actual beta for checking my grammar and everything else on this fic. If anyone's interested, leave a review.

* * *

Father, 

The Sorting went without incident. The four other boys who were Sorted into Slytherin with me aren't completely moronic. I took one of them with me to try out the Nimbus that you and Mother sent. Someone apparently thought it would be amusing to let a bludger out on us, though. Potter had a broken arm and my face was bruised horribly. Madam Pomfrey attempted to heal us, but…

Well, tell Mother that I am being brave about it.

Has Mother decided where to go on holiday, by the way? Grandmother mentioned Italy in her letter. She also made mention of the Ministry snooping in the shop again. Though I'm certain you have a plan to send them elsewhere before business is affected, I can likely find other solutions if you have need of them, given time. The Ministry appears to have half of their children currently enrolled in Hogwarts. A few convincing words in the right ears should send the Ministry in other directions.

Hoping you and Mother are well,

-- Scorpius

o-----o

Dear Mum and Dad (though mainly Mum – Dad never knows quite how to handle these things),

Remember how I told you that Al was upset about where he was Sorted? He's doing better now, but… I'm not sure what to do about the friends he's made. I don't think they're good people. I caught Al and one of them sneaking out last week with a broomstick! I didn't tell on them, but I heard they were caught at it and that the broom was taken.

I'm afraid Al will think I told.

What should I do?

Before you start worrying – this is the only problem that I'm having. It was a bit of a shock to be put into Ravenclaw, but there are some lovely people here. Headmaster Quoft's grandson, Michael, is even helping me with History of Magic (Professor Binns is a_nightmare_!). Tell Dad not to hunt Michael down, please. He's just a friend.

Hodgin Anthony also does homework with us. Remember that boy James brought when he came 'round last summer? It's his little brother!

Tell Hugo I said hello!

-- Rose

o------o

Dad!

Is it true that you'll be giving a lesson in DADA next week? James mentioned something about it right before trying to jinx me (Eric Lepine got him from behind with _Rictusempra_ before he could, though – you should have seen his face).

It would be brilliant if you could teach my class for a lesson! Not that I don't like Professor Piers – she's wicked. She's a bit peaky on Thursdays, though. Rose's come up with a dozen reasons why. Malfoy thinks she just goes down to Hogsmeade for a drink every Wednesday night. I guess that explains why Peeves tried to upend a pitcher of water over her yesterday.

Did you ever… _do_ anything to Peeves? Apparently I remind him of you. He's already tried to ram a pair of glasses on my nose twice. I told him my vision was fine and he tried to poke his finger in my eye to "fix that".

I'm putting a dozen Chocolate Frog cards in for Lily. I managed to trade for some of the ones she needed.

Also… I guess you've heard about where I got Sorted. I'm doing alright, I guess, and I'm sorry for not writing sooner. I was a right prat to wait for so long after Mum told me to write immediately. You know what I'm going through, though, right? It's getting better. I've made friends, too. Eric is an okay guy, and so are the other boys in my dormitory. Rose and I are hanging 'round one another a lot, and I'm getting to know her friend Michael fairly well.

Send everyone my love,

-- Albus

o------o

Dad,

Quidditch trials were today. Guess who made it on the team?

_**ME.**_

That's right! This is the first step on my road to greatness. 'Course, I'm not Seeker or anything like you were, but we both know some of the brilliant moves I can pull as Chaser. Tell Mum her tips helped out. A bit. It was mostly _my_ amazing skills that got me on the team, though. And maybe practice with Callum, too. He's made it on the team as well.

Try to make it to the Quidditch game to see some _real_ flying!

-- James

P.S. Did you get the tickets for next summer yet?

P.S.P.S Whatever Albus says, it's a _bloody_ _lie_.

…Oh, yeah. I send Lily my love. And a Hogwarts toilet seat (blame Uncle George!).

o------o

Mum,

Hogwarts is every bit as amazing as I thought it would be. I know you really don't get this magic thing, but I'm sure if you saw the castle, even you would be amazed.

I was Sorted (by means of a magic hat, no less) into Ravenclaw (which is the House for intelligence, I think). I've already made two friends (Rose Weasley and Hodgin Anthony) who are both from wizarding families.

The classes are great! Transfiguration is the best. We're not turning people into bison or anything like that, but we have turned beetles to buttons and pin cushions to hedge hogs. It can be tricky sometimes – Hodgin accidentally turned his desk into a llama.

Oh, and the Headmaster here seems okay. He's really into Quidditch (wizard sport that'll take a letter by itself to explain). It's a bit interesting that a few teachers are determined that I shouldn't receive special treatment as his grandson. I haven't even spoken with him outside of letters yet!

I'll keep you posted.

-- Michael

* * *

_Bonus:_ Rough outline of Albus's class schedule. (Please keep in mind that this is simply the _rough_ outline I go by.) 

Monday

8:15 -- Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall

10:00 -- Charms with Professor Flitwick

Tuesday

2:00 -- History of Magic with Professor Binns

4:30 -- Potions with Professor Borage

Wednesday

4:30 -- Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Piers

Midnight Astronomy

Thursday

8:15 -- Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall

1:00 -- Flying Lessons

Friday

8:00 -- Potions with Professor Borage

11:00 -- Herbology with Professor Longbottom


	8. Eight: Lessons in Defense

**Chapter Eight**

**Lessons in Defense**

_Disclaimer_: I neither own nor make a profit off of anything from the Harry Potter universe.

_Status_: I feel much better. I've a lot going on this week, but I'll try to manage at least one more chapter of this length, or two shorter ones.

_Other_: Do you RP? Drop me a PM and I'll point you to a lovely RP that I'm in.

_Alert: _Is anyone well-versed in the _Harry Potter_ fandom willing to check me for mistakes? I've been leaning heavily on my sister to pick up on anything I miss, but I currently don't have an actual beta for checking my grammar and everything else on this fic. If anyone's interested, leave a review.

* * *

The night outside of Hogwarts couldn't have been more peaceful. The only thing visibly moving on the grounds was the Whomping Willow swaying gently in what was perhaps its version of sleep, and Hagrid swaying a bit in his version of a drunken stupor. Fang trotted along beside Hagrid, keeping him in line, and eventually the two disappeared into Hagrid's hut, leaving the night that much more calm. 

Inside of Hogwarts was a similar peace. The majority of students had drifted to their dormitories, leaving the halls empty aside from a few ghosts and the ever-present Filch, who most students believed refused to die of old age just to spite them (some students were now making bets that, when he did finally keel over, he would continue to haunt the place with demonic glee at being able to go straight through walls to spot trouble-makers).

Albus Potter stayed awake despite the late hour and the quiet atmosphere. He had chosen to retreat from the common room's eerie green glow when a few fifth years had snarled out that he was, "_breathing_ too loudly." Now he was sitting cross-legged on his four-poster, green curtains drawn around the bed, and _lumos_-lit wand tucked behind one ear, lighting the pages of the book held open in his lap.

He continued to study the text, chewing thoughtfully on his bottom lip, until his small patch of Hogwarts peace was destroyed.

"What in the name of Merlin's beard are you doing, Potter?"

If the dark-haired boy hadn't been chewing on his lip, he would have yelped before being able to stop himself.

James was right – he was a bit of a coward.

Scorpius Malfoy tugged again at the hangings to Albus's four-poster, drawing them completely aside. "Studying?" he said, eyebrows drawing together in suspicion. "_Why_?"

"None of yours," Albus attempted bravely, despite being completely thrown by someone discovering him.

The blond-haired Slytherin's eyebrow lifted in an expression Albus interpreted as one Scorpius might use in preparation of quashing a particularly annoying bug that had just dared to wander into his way.

For a moment, the two eyed each other. Scorpius waiting for Albus to back down, Albus hoping that Scorpius would find something better to do than bother him.

From across the room there was a cough, then a sluggish movement as one of their dormitory mates levered himself up to peer in their direction.

"We've had a midnight Astronomy lesson today because of the meteors," came the quiet, dangerous voice of Eric Lepine. "Tomorrow I have a detention at eight. _In the morning_."

There was a small silence as Eric let that sink in and allowed the other two boys to remember just how much he hated morning. He also allowed them time to remember what _happened_ to things that caused things he hated to be even more annoying for him than usual.

Several things happened at once as the silence ended.

Eric made a violent motion, hissing, "_Confringo!_" Faster than either of the other two boys thought possible, he flourished his wand again, saying, "_Silencio!_"

Scorpius dove to the floor. Albus made a muffled yelp and dove to the floor as well, covering his head as his four-poster _exploded_, the noise of it curiously absent with the effects of the second spell.

Neither of the boys on the floor moved as Eric snorted in satisfaction. They continued to lie on the floor, protected by Braden Corkum's bed. After a brief moment, they heard the sound of Eric turning over and going to sleep.

Albus raised a finger to his lips as Scorpius took a breath, preparing to begin ranting about Eric and his nerve.

Slowly, Scorpius nodded and, collecting Albus's fallen wand and book, they quietly made their way out into the common room.

"My _bed_," Albus moaned as soon as they were out of Eric's earshot. "He _blew it up_."

Scorpius pressed a hand to his forehead and sank into one of the large, green leather armchairs. "_God_, there's something wrong with him. He's perfectly sane when he's awake…"

Albus simply shook his head. He was a little more preoccupied with the distinct lack of his four-poster, and not terribly concerned with Eric Lepine's drastic shifts in mood.

"_So.._."

Feeling a bit uneasy, Albus glanced up from his spot on the couch… and immediately cringed. Scorpius was pursing his lips, holding Albus's book with two fingers as if it was something that was a bit disgusting and eyeing it doubtfully.

"Er…"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Scorpius continued, shrugging and tossing the book to Albus, who caught it between his two hands, snapping the book closed. "What are you studying this for?"

For some strange, unknown reason, Albus had thought that a tiny little event like his bed being _annihilated_ might deter Scorpius from his quest to be the nosiest git in Slytherin.

"Making sure I know everything for the lesson tomorrow," grudgingly admitted Albus at last. He pointedly opening his book and sank down in the couch then. If he didn't have a bed to sleep in, he might as well finish his studying.

Scorpius lifted an eyebrow and watched Albus curiously for a moment before a slow smirk spread across your face. "Ah, I remember. Your father, correct? The _famous_ Auror."

Before Albus could rise to the insult, Scorpius's sneer disappeared from his face completely to be replaced by an almost… _earnest_ expression. "I'd be very proud to have him as a father. You'll have to introduce me, Albus."

It took a moment's time for Albus to determine whether Scorpius was actually sincere or not. In the end, he couldn't decide, but had a hunch that Scorpius had very few sincere bones in his body. The git was an amazing actor sometimes.

"We'll see," decided Albus, and went back to his book.

Scorpius smirked and settled into his armchair, privately amused as Albus ignored him and studied into the night.

o----o

The sound of people moving about was what made Albus make his first sluggish attempt at opening his eyes. Without any sunlight to prod him into the land of the conscious, however, his attempts to awaken were failed ones.

The shuffling footsteps and irritated grumbling of what Albus recognized as the Prefects getting their usual early start continued for several moments as the messy-haired boy started to drift off to sleep again. It was only when one of them spoke that he again made a valiant attempt at clinging to consciousness.

"Bloody first years. Think they can stay up, then we've got to deal with them passed out all over the commons," snorted one of the Prefects.

"Pity the house elves don't sweep them up and deposit them where they belong," sighed another.

The two continued along this vein for a moment before a third suggested searching the Great Hall for a decent cup of coffee. The suggestion was met with ragged cheers and soon the common room returned to its quiet.

It _chilly_ quiet.

Albus shifted uncomfortably on the leather couch, trying to both curl himself into a tighter ball and burrow into the couch cushions. His efforts only succeeded in knocking his book to the floor with a dull_thunk_.

Great. Now he had no choice but to get up. If Cameron Etheridge, the tiny boy who took up the last bed in their first year dormitory, found it, it would be sold to the highest bidder before Albus could even begin to utter the word _Quidditch_.

Either that, or it would mysteriously reappear beside his bed with an unknown hex or jinx on it. Braden had already discovered this earlier in the week.

Feeling as if he'd rather do anything but, Albus finally managed to open his eyes and peer blearily about.

He… was in the Slytherin common room. Which only took a moment to connect with the previous night's events. And he was fairly stiff. The couch was, frighteningly enough, less comfortable than even the bare stone floors of Hogwarts.

The final thing that Albus noticed was Scorpius. The blond was still in the arm chair, his head propped on one fist, fast asleep.

Albus had to take a moment to actually smirk. He would have bet a galleon that Scorpius had had an even more unpleasant night's sleep than he had.

Scorpius chose that moment to open his eyes and sit up as if he had been merely resting his eyes for a few moments. "Finally up, Potter?" he wondered, brushing off his robes superiorly. "You're going to miss breakfast at this rate."

With that, Scorpius straightened his tie, nodded once to Braden, who had just emerged from their dormitory, and took the exit out into the dungeons.

Al shook his head for a moment. He was halfway convinced that Scorpius had caffeine for blood – the boy never woke up groggy. Somehow he was always wide awake and talking the second he opened his eyes.

"M—morning," Braden managed through a yawn. "Your bed's toast, Potter. Drop your wand on it?"

"Morning to you, too," Albus sighed.

A lovely start to a lovely day.

o----o

"Er… sorry about taking Professor Piers away today."

The class stared back at Harry incredulously. They didn't mind having a guest speaker in the least – it meant that they didn't have to sit through a _real_ lesson. It also held the possibility of being extremely worth the effort of coming to class. There weren't many who didn't know the name "Harry Potter" in the wizarding world.

Harry cleared his throat again, and then seemed to at last seize upon the resolve he was looking for. After standing up a bit straighter, he glanced from student-to-student in the class. "Alright. Can anyone tell me what an Auror is?"

It was Eric Lepine who raised his hand, a cheerful smirk in place. "Dark Wizard catcher."

"Correct, and—"

"And a Dark Wizard is a wizard with a penchant for blowing Muggles off the map," Eric concluded, sending a nasty grin toward the Hufflepuff sitting nearest him. The girl seemed about to faint for a moment.

Harry sent a sharp glance at the red-head. Eric folded his hands on his desk and reverted to an expression of perfect innocence. The Hufflepuff girl continued to eye Eric uneasily, looking as if she'd like dearly to switch seats with anyone sitting across the room.

The head of the Auror Department wished for a moment to massage his temples, but resisted the urge with the unsettling thought that showing weakness of any kind might be bad around this lot.

…At least it wasn't too bad. Though the Slytherins were always an interesting bunch to teach, they at least were never quite as bad as having two sons who seemed to have a knack for getting into hours-long arguments.

Briefly, Harry glanced toward the back of the room where his youngest son sat beaming at him.

That was all he needed to grin back and begin his guest-lesson in earnest.


	9. Nine: September's End

**Chapter Nine**

**September's End**

_Disclaimer_: I neither own nor make a profit off of anything from the Harry Potter universe.

_Status_: College started back this week, so weekends will be my primary writing time. All of my teachers have unfortunately said that anything done in their class other than paying attention is punishable by their wrath. Updates should come every week or two now.

_Also:_ Fred Weasley the II is the product of one of the post-_Deathly Hallows_ interviews with Rowling.

* * *

For Albus, the month of September ended before he had really accepted that it had begun. Looking back, he wasn't quite sure where everything fit together in his blurry memories of the month. Somewhere in the beginning, he knew, was where he'd been Sorted, met Scorpius (who he still wasn't sure on whether to mark as friend or part-time foe) and the rest of his fellow first-year Slytherins, had his arm broken by a bludger and his bed blown up by Eric Lepine, and attended a class taught by his own father. 

The middle of the month was blurrier still. It was filled, mainly, with getting to classes on time, complaining about the dim lighting in his common room, and listening to Scorpius gloat about his new (imported) silk curtains. Somewhere during that time it was discovered that his bed was only so many pieces of tinder and, after Albus had been given a new bed, Professor Borage had sentenced Eric to another two weeks of detention. Shortly after that, Eric had been forced to put up a calendar in their dormitory to keep track of who he had detention with, why, how long, and at what time.

If Albus had been hoping that the end of September would be calmer, he had been mistaken. It was at that time that Scorpius decided that, rather than complain about the lighting for hours, they should do homework out of doors or at the library. Rose and her friend Michael had discovered them during their second experiment of using the library to study and had promptly made the two Slytherins into their study partners. Which... Albus found a bit odd, as they hadn't spoken often since the row at Hagrid's hut.

Scorpius had not been pleased about joining the two. In fact, he had hissed several choice words about the two Ravenclaws that had left Albus torn between exasperation and hexing the other boy.

Slytherin House, Albus had found, was at odds with everyone. Every other House was considered the enemy. That meant that the moment Scorpius and he had any sort of contact with Ravenclaw House that didn't send someone to the hospital wing, a Slytherin somewhere became annoyed.

Annoyed Slytherins were interesting creatures. As filled with brains and cunning as they were, they always seemed to lack imagination and finesse the moment irritation struck. Lacking both, they expressed their annoyance by simply cursing the cause of said annoyance.

Because of this, Albus was becoming quite adept at sneaking around, cursing people back, and diving to the floor whenever someone reached for their wand.

When September ended, it was a bit of a relief. The teachers were cracking down on students using magic in the halls, and the stressed tempers had begun to simmer down with the close of the month.

The tenth of October dawned without much fuss on a chilly, clear morning. In the dungeons, fires were lit in the grates to at least give the students hope that it was still possible to be warm.

Albus wasted no time in clambering from his bed and tugging his clothes on – he didn't really fancy freezing to death in his own dormitory.

No one bothered him on his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Scorpius had refused to budge from his bed, insisting that he needed rest as much as Eric did (which made Albus suspect that Scorpius had gone to watch one of Eric's midnight jaunts through the castle, which consisted of finding other students and 'accidentally' guiding them into Filch).

The morning was actually looking to be rather peaceful with two of Albus's more obnoxious classmates asleep. Transfiguration might even end without McGonagall becoming furious with Albus's side of the room.

"D'you have the time?"

Albus blinked, glancing up from where he'd been trying to fork a kipper.

Cameron Etheridge stared back at him from across the table.

Of the many people that could have chosen to pester Albus, Cameron was easily one of the ones Albus would prefer. The boy was tiny for his age, and had a distinctly first-year look about him with his wide, hopeful eyes. Some of the older Slytherins thought that his entire appearance begged for him to be trounced, but surprisingly few had gone through with the threats.

Perhaps his mother being in Azkaban had something to do with it. A parent in the wizarding prison could make any kid seem a bit more frightening and not quite as pathetic.

Or, Albus mused, it could have something to do with the fact that Cameron had a knack for breaking through any protective wards other students put on their things. Once he was able to get at other peoples' things, Cameron was brilliant with cursing items to pummel their owners 'round the ears.

"No," Albus decided at last. "Sorry, Etheridge."

Cameron nodded, his expression one of disappointment. "'Course, Potter."

No one in their right mind would tell Cameron that they had the time. That implied that they owned a watch of some sort. And watches of some sort often ended up in Cameron's pockets.

His watch still safely hidden away, Albus continued his breakfast without incident

o-----o

Transfiguration also went without incident. Without Scorpius there to say how easy the magic was, or Eric present to try to sabotage everyone's attempts, the class was a lot simpler. Turning puffskeins into giant balls of cotton was even… kind of fun.

At the end of the lesson, Albus had even earned a lifted eyebrow and a, "Good work, Potter," from Professor McGonagall.

When he'd reached the library, Albus had been all smiles. The smile had quickly disappeared, however, as he took to studying in earnest, attempting to decipher the spells he would need to know for his next Charms lesson. A lesson that was, thankfully, held with the Ravenclaws. It made it simpler to coerce help on homework out of the two Ravenclaws at the table with him.

"Albus?"

Albus glanced up from his book at the tentative, almost frightened tone of his cousin's voice. She was chewing on her lip as she gazed back at him from across the library table. The worried expression on her face was enough to tell the boy that he hadn't misinterpreted her tone.

Worried himself now, Albus set his book down on the table. "What is it?"

"Al... I..."

Albus shot a confused glance at Michael, hoping for answers, but the other boy was making a determined effort to continue reading his Charms textbook.

More uncertain than before, Albus switched his gaze back to Rose, who was now close to tears.

"I _yelled_ at you!" she exclaimed at last, heedless of Madam Pince, who was only a few bookshelves away. In a quieter, more subdued voice, Rose continued, gaze firmly locked on her hands, which she was now twisting in her lap. "And I shouldn't have. 'Specially with how much of a prat James has been, not talking to you and all..."

Albus again turned his helpless gaze on Michael, wondering what had come over his cousin so suddenly, but once again the other boy was proving himself to be about as useful as a lost Remembrall. He had at least stopped pretending to read, however, and now simply stared blankly at the page he was on.

"Er..." Albus began, not quite sure _what_ he was supposed to say. "That's...erm...fine? I've been okay, really... And Scorpius is a bit of a git sometimes, I'll admit... As for the James thing… I don't really _like_ talking to him, Rosie."

"But at least Scorpius talked to you," Rose pressed on, waving his protest away. "He didn't leave you all alone your first year here, did he? I'm a horrible cousin."

Albus opened his mouth to protest again, but was immediately cut off as Rose eyed him, daring him to say otherwise. "And a horrible_friend,_ too."

A final time, Albus looked to Michael for help – he really didn't see what the big deal was. Michael rewarded him by glancing furtively at Rose to see if she was looking, and then offering Albus a slight shrug.

_Great, _Albus thought, cringing as Rose hit the boy with her own Charms textbook for daring to take part in the conversation. It looked like Michael didn't know much more than he did. Which was scary, really. Rose didn't do well with apologies. If he said the wrong thing during it, he'd end up in frosty silence for weeks. James had learned that when he'd laughed at her after she'd apologized for spilling a cup of milk on his sugar quills.

"It's... erm... okay?" Albus tried again, motioning vaguely at the nearest bookshelf. "You've been helping me study, right?"

"Only lately," argued Rose, coming very close to sulking.

Albus was at a loss, but Michael – brave, brave Michael – came to the rescue. "Just agree to do his Potions' homework for a month and call it square, okay?"

The furious look Rose shot Michael was almost comical. "That's_cheating_," she told him heatedly, kicking him under the table.

"Er... that's all right," Albus decided, tentatively lifting his book up again. He was considering using it as a shield if Rose took to hitting _him_ with her Charms book.

Albus was saved from Rose protesting more by a small, slightly stocky boy sliding into the remaining seat and giving the table at large a weak smile.

"Has anyone ever told you that your timing would make Merlin himself jealous?" Michael wondered, patting the newcomer on the back good-naturedly. "You're brilliant Hodgin."

"Find any more books on that charm?" Albus wondered eagerly, hoping to distract Rose with their homework before she decided to be offended.

"Erm… too much luck, I think." Hodgin offered a rather apologetic smile before lifting his book bag, which was straining at the seams, and dumping a pile of books onto the table.

They all winced. It was going to be a long afternoon.

o----o

Callum glanced at the common room fire for the fifth time that evening and once again wondered if it was too early to beg off and make a dash for his bed. Other, slower Gryffindors had already managed the feat. He didn't see why he couldn't be one of the lucky ones – the ones who escaped.

"Here's where we'll start."

Almost against his will, Callum leaned forward, his sandy hair hanging into his face as he peered at the blank 'map' James was tapping. Immediately he glanced up to see James grinning back.

"Where did you get this… er… parchment…?" he asked slowly. Callum already had his suspicions.

James's face lit up with a grin that was reflected back at him by his red-haired cousin, who was one of the few still brave enough to sit through the dark-haired boy's impromptu meeting.

Callum frowned. "Guys? James? Fred?"

"It's a _map_, Cal," grinned Fred in answer, tapping the parchment as James had a moment ago.

"Don't patroni--"

"It's a _magic_ map," James interrupted, still with that same infuriating grin.

Callum was beginning to get exasperated. "_Everything_ here is magic."

James began to speak, but Fred cut him off by lifting the parchment and shaking it under Callum's nose before opening it fully with a small flourish. "But this isn't your _ordinary _magic map."

"Not even your _extra_ordinary magic map."

"It's above average."

"Higher than stupendous."

"Exceeding all expectations."

"It's _amazing_," James concluded, snatching the map up and rapping Callum smartly over the head with it.

Callum attempted to swat the parchment away with little success – James simply tossed the map back to Fred, who quickly rapped Callum on the head again.

Finally fed up with the entire process, Callum snatched up his heaviest textbook and hefted it in the most threatening manner he could manage. That done, he narrowed his eyes at the two boys in turn. "Just tell me why you're on about it…"

Fred rubbed the bridge of his noses in his usual half-hearted attempt to scrub the smattering of freckles away and glanced at James.

Finally spreading out the map again, James glanced back at Fred, who nodded.

Callum watched warily. He wouldn't be surprised if this was another one of Fred and James's tricks.

A few muttered words later, and ink was beginning to trace across the page, welcoming the three boys to…

"The Marauders' Map," James informed him triumphantly.


	10. Ten: Directions to Trouble

**Chapter Ten**

**Directions to Trouble**

_Disclaimer_: I neither own nor make a profit off of anything from the Harry Potter universe.

_Status_: College ate me. I had a bet going on with my sister that I would pass a certain class or pay her forty dollars. So… yes. I didn't get to write at all. I'm back now, though. Don't shoot me for being gone for so long?

_Q&A_: Is Fred George's boy?

Yes indeed he is. The little brat is also a fifth year Gryffindor and doused in more freckles than Ron.

_Also:_ I'm still looking for a beta. And I'm in an awesome RP. Want to join? Drop me a line!

* * *

Callum stared at the map in amazement for several moments before gingerly beginning to prod it in an attempt to figure out how it worked. 

"It took me _weeks_ to figure it out," James declared proudly, looking to Fred for confirmation. The fifth year Weasley grinned lazily and rolled his eyes. "Our Jamesie isn't too bright," he agreed.

James made a face, but offered no further argument. Callum suspected Fred would find something decidedly nasty in his bed one night. The last person to call James an idiot (other than Callum, of course) had woken up to a pail of flobberworm mucus tied above their bed with a thin cord. The first little movement they had made had tipped the entire bucket of muck over their heads. It wasn't dangerous or anything, of course, but the stench as they passed the boy in the halls had been awful.

"So you stole this," Callum continued, shaking his mind free of his earlier thoughts. "That's really big of you, James. I was starting to think you were through trying to figure out how many criminal acts you could manage in only one year. Good job."

"Flattery's not going to get you anywhere," Fred said solemnly, placing a hand over his heart. "As James's loyal lawyer, it's my responsibility to let you know that. Anything and nothing we have against you can one day be used in a prank that might do you harm. Flattery or no flattery, you're a marked man."

Bemused, Callum lifted one eyebrow. "You sound more like my lawyer than you do his, giving me warnings like this…"

"Heeeeey…!" James frowned, shoving Fred's shoulder. "Cally's right – have you gone turncoat on me?"

Fred carefully directed his gaze to the ceiling and rubbed the bridge of nose again. "What's that? I think I hear my dorm mates calling me. Yep, that's them. Bloody hell, they have bad timing, don't they?"

"Nobody's calling you!" James protested, but Fred had already beaten a laughing retreat.

Callum tapped the map pointedly to bring James's attention back to the matter at hand and was rewarded more quickly than usual by his best mate's attention. "What's this for, exactly?"

"Sneaking," was James's oh-so-simple reply.

Frowning, Callum glanced around the room to make sure no one was listening. In the past two years of knowing James he had long since learned the consequences of double-checking for people who were too keen on paying attention to what they were up to. He was still vexed over the detention he had almost gotten from releasing the bludger – Callum was intent on not getting any detentions this year if he could help it.

_Of course_, reminded the little rational voice in his mind, _if you were really serious about that, you'd lock James in a closet._

"And where are we sneaking?" Callum asked cautiously, noting that the only people in the room were a few second years trying to toast marshmallows in the fireplace.

"_We_ aren't sneaking."

Callum felt his eyebrow lift almost of its own accord. "Alright then. Where are _you_ sneaking?" If he were any of James's other friends he would have been hurt at being left out of a prank, but he was Callum.

And Callum was the smart one.

How this had ended him up as James's best mate, Cal would never know.

If it had been on any other boy, Callum would have described the grin on James's face as angelic. The angelic grin soon turned into a devilish smirk, however. "I'm not sneaking either. I can think of a few Slytherin first years that are, though…"

That took a few moments for Callum to process. As he sat close-mouthed, he let his gaze drift over to the fire where the second years had just let out yelps of surprise. The boy – Callum recognized him as being the Creevey boy that Gryffindor had had the misfortune of acquiring last year – quickly jumped onto one of the plush red armchairs and flailed his arms desperately as if he were marooned and trying to summon down help.

"Palmer?" Callum asked cautiously, not quite certain as to whether or not he had the name right. "What… are you doing?"

"A monster!" the blond-headed boy said frantically, squeaking in fear and attempting to balance himself up on the back of the chair now. "It came out of the fire and I thought it was goin' to kill us, right? And it's just there on the floor, all red and flaming and I bet it's a dragon only I didn't know they got so small – do they de-grow somehow? 'Cause I heard they were, like, ginormous and—_oh, MERLIL, IT CAN CLIMB!"_

Callum looked on, alarmed, but James simply laughed, pulling a heavy glove from his coat pocket and hurrying forward to rescue Palmer from the salamander. "I thought I'd let him play around in the fire a bit before I put him up," he offered in explanation.

The grin James was wearing let Callum know that the boy had planned all along to scare someone with his pet.

That was James Potter in a nutshell. He couldn't have a _normal_ pet like an owl. Oh, no. He had to have a pet as vicious as he was that could be used against a person. James was an evil, horrible boy.

Briefly, while the excitement of a prank wasn't affecting his judgment, Callum felt a moment's remorse for the Slytherins. No one deserved to have James's evil genius bent toward making a fool out of them.

"Come on, then," James said. "Help me trace out a few of these corridors."

o-----o

Saturday morning dawned crisp and cool outside. The grass was coated in a thick layer of frost that crunched underneath the shoes of those students who decided it might be fun to go for a walk around the lake.

Deep in the dungeons, Albus slept soundly on his fairly new four-poster. His mother had Owled up several extra heavy blankets after Al had written her and mentioned that the heater in his dormitory didn't work quite as well as it needed to down in the dungeons. They had helped a lot with the cold, but they had the disadvantage of being _too_ comfortable. Already Al had slept in and missed a few morning classes last week.

Now that Rose was making special efforts to make certain Al felt loved by his family at Hogwarts, he expected to start getting told off for his absences. Rose couldn't be loving and not scold.

Mumbling incoherently, Albus rolled over under the blankets, wondering where a sudden chill was coming from. The blankets should have been keeping him warm, and the hangings should have been helping, too.

Al reached down, feeling for the blankets that he had apparently kicked off in his sleep and… felt nothing.

Blearily, Al opened his eyes, already knowing what he was going to find.

Scorpius smirked from where he was sitting cross-legged at the end of Albus's bed. "Took you long enough."

Albus rolled his eyes ceiling-ward in a plea for the morning to be a dream, then groaned. Scorpius wasn't going to go away now that he was awake. The blond haired boy wouldn't rest until everyone else (or at least the unfortunate Albus) was awake with him.

Al found himself wishing more and more often that Scorpius had continued to follow along after Eric on his nightly jaunts of raiding the kitchens and troubling other students. At least then the pale boy had been too tired to bother messing with Al's sleep schedule.

"D'you have to do this on a Saturday?" Albus muttered irritably.

In reply Scorpius slid from the bed and strutted across the room to where Cameron was still sleeping.

Albus suppressed another groan as Scorpius repeated the process of stealing the blankets to wake the other boy up. He felt a bit better that he wasn't the only one Scorpius was tormenting, but he already knew it wouldn't stay like this.

Fairly soon, it would be back to the normalcy of Scorpius waking up only Albus. Right now he was simply in one of his stages where he suddenly got oddly curious about a person and asked them all sorts of questions that Albus couldn't figure out a purpose for. He had done it with Braden last week, and apparently it was Cameron's turn this week.

If only, Albus found himself wishing fervently as he looped his tie loosely around his neck, Scorpius would just take interest in _him_ that way. And then leave him alone.

They still had that weird sort of half-friendship thing going on. Albus got on better with Braden, but he was always being dragged off to do things by Scorpius.

_Sort of like a new puppy_, Albus thought with a wry grin.

After they had all gotten dressed, the trio trooped up toward the common room, careful not to wake up Erik. Ever since he had blown up Al's bed, they had all been a little leery of him.

They paused briefly in the commons for Cameron to do a quick search of the leather cushions, and then continued on their way to the Great Hall.

"I'm not really sure what to do with this," Cameron noted absently as they mounted the top of the tight spiral staircase out of the dungeons and found themselves near the grand staircase.

Albus glanced over at the shorter boy to see what he had and was only mildly surprised to see that the boy had some sort of lighter. He flicked it on as Al watched, and the flame lit up green.

"You're going to put it away," Scorpius said suddenly when Al couldn't come up with an answer. The blond's gaze darted to the grand staircase several times before Al finally noticed what he was looking at:

Caretaker Filch was standing partway up the first flight, gently stroking his infuriating cat with one hand, and keeping himself upright with his gnarled cane with his other hand. The cat stared unblinkingly down at the three boys as they crossed to the Great Hall, and Al fancied he could still feel her red-eyed gaze boring into the back of his skull even after they had all sat down at their table.

"Creepy thing, that cat," Cameron mused, idly pouring himself a goblet-full of juice. "I wonder where he keeps her food?"

"Why?" Scorpius asked curiously.

Albus made a face as he stretched to reach the platter of toast and snag himself a piece. "Leave her alone or we're all going to be miserable."

Cameron blinked and fixed Al with a mild stare. "I was just asking, was all."

"There's nothing wrong with asking questions," Scorpius added smoothly, examining the back of his hand as if he wasn't really interested in the conversation.

If Albus had liked Cameron more, he would have warned the small boy what was about to happen.

Scorpius slowly sipped at his own goblet of juice and flicked his gaze in Cameron's direction after glancing briefly to Albus. "So… your mother is in the wizarding prison, correct? My grandfather was there for a few years, you know. My father came close, but they let him off. Which was a real fortune, really. He never did anything wrong – the _Ministry_ was simply going on a crusade after the fall of… you-know-who."

As Albus watched, Scorpius narrowed his eyes to judge Cameron's reaction. The younger boy simply stared back passively, waiting for the Malfoy boy to make his point.

"What'd they get your mother on, anyway? I don't think I've heard," drawled Scorpius, his tone already dropping toward boredom.

Albus frowned. He was starting to think that the bored tone was as fake as Scorpius himself usually was.

Cameron's expression didn't shift in the slightest. "'s because they didn't release the information to the public, I expect. You can ask my mum yourself if you're that bloody nosy."

Al thought for sure that Scorpius was going to take offence to that, but the blond haired boy simply snorted, brushing the comment away

As Scorpius set in on more questions that Cameron steadfastly declined to answer, Albus busied himself with his breakfast. He still hadn't had a run-in with James (unless you counted the incident with the bludger, but he couldn't prove that James had had a hand in that), and he didn't want to tempt his luck by being anywhere where the older boy could find him on a weekend.

If James decided to make his life miserable on a weekend, there wouldn't be any classes that would drag the older boy away from his favorite game of seeing how long it took to get Albus near wanting to go crawl under a rock somewhere.

"Morning, Al. Cold one, isn't it?" Braden grinned slightly to Al as he and Erik took their seats across the table. "Looks like we got here just in time, doesn't it? Mail's here."

Albus glanced up just as well-over a hundred owls swooped down on the House tables, searching out the students who had made it to an early breakfast. A large screech owl glided in a loop over Eric before dropping a small package in the red-head's plate of eggs.

Eric scowled. The bloody owl always did that.

Cameron got two letters, Braden got a small package, and Scorpius received a rather large package that he immediately predicted to be full of sweets.

Albus was just starting to wonder if he was going to get anything at all that morning when he spotted Halliford.

Halliford was a large African Spotted Eagle Owl that he and James shared. Bill and Fleur had bought the owl for them when they went to Africa for some work from Gringotts.

"Finally decided to show up, did you?" Al muttered, reaching for the parchment tired to Halliford's leg. The owl eyed him reproachfully, clicking his beak in annoyance. He did let Albus retrieve the parchment before taking flight again and angling for the Gryffindor table to see if James was up, though.

Albus was rather pleased when Halliford apparently caught no sign of James and flew off again back up towards the rafters.

"What have you got there, Albus?" Scorpius asked as Albus separated the bundle of parchment into three letters.

"You really are nosy," mused Cameron.

"No, he just never shuts up and talks about whatever's in his line of sight," Eric corrected as he fiddled with the strings holding his mail closed.

Scorpius scowled, but said nothing. Perhaps in an effort to prove Eric wrong.

Albus focused on ignoring the exchange as he sorted his mail. There was one letter from his parents with a reminder that James's birthday was coming up on the 31st if he could find it in his ability to try to get along with him. There was another from his Uncle Ron with a clipping from the _Prophet_ that detailed the capture of a wizard he and Harry had taken down. The last one wasn't a letter at all, Al found. It was simply a piece of parchment that had been folded into a tight square.

On the outside, it said: _I hope this helps you as much as it helped me in school._

Nothing more. No name or anything.

Mildly curious now, Albus slid a finger under one corner of the parchment and broke the seal on it.

"Looks like a map, Potter," Eric said helpfully, pausing to rub the tip of his slightly upturned nose before leaning across the table and cocking his head to the side for a better look.

Beside Al, Scorpius shook himself from his sulk and peered curiously at the hand-drawn map as well. "That's the infirmary where it starts, isn't it?"

Al frowned, twisting the map this way and that in an attempt to see who it was from. He thought maybe it was Teddy who had sent it, but that would mean he had sent it to Al by mistake. Anything like this usually went straight to James.

"It… looks like it goes to a tunnel," Albus said slowly.

"My Dad said there were secret tunnels all over this school," said Braden, speaking up finally around a large mouthful of eggs. "He reckons there's new ones every year, what with the castle getting bored and changing things around sometimes. He found one down the History of Magic corridor, but it's not there now…"

Albus nodded. "Yeah, my dad told me there were some, too. He didn't tell me where they were. But…"

"But?" Scorpius prodded, lifting the map from Albus's hands and peering intently at the writing off to the side of the supposed secret tunnel.

"But how come _I _got this?" Al finished, frowning down at his plate of toast.

It didn't make sense unless it was some sort of joke.

And even if it wasn't a joke, what was he supposed to do with it? Al wasn't the kind of kid to be extremely adventurous – that was James's department. A secret tunnel would have to be investigated at night, Al imagined, otherwise a professor might see him and tell him off for being somewhere he wasn't supposed to be.

Another frown flitting across his face, Albus took the map back and turned it over to stare at the writing on the back.

It _could_ be from Teddy. Albus would ask Victoire about it and see if she knew anything.


	11. Eleven: Setting the Plans

**Chapter Eleven**

**Setting the Plans**

_Status_: I've now acquired an editor and I'll be running the next chapter through her. As for the story, we're finally getting toward something deeper after ten chapters and twenty-thousand words. I'm not sure what to think of that. On a random note, I started writing this at 12:05. And I needed sleep. Why can't I be normal and write during the day?

_FYI: _I changed the name of the story to something more suitable. I felt a bit odd calling it _First Encounters_ when that was just supposed to be the title for the first and only chapter. Also, if you're curious about what year everyone is in, you can find a handy link in my profile.

Also, I'm back in college starting tomorrow, but I'm going to be optimistic and say that updates should remain regular. Why? Well, because I need to write to relieve stress, and applying for Harvard is stressful.

* * *

Al resisted the urge to shiver as he headed down a dark hallway Braden had told him was a shortcut up to the seventh floor. It had been hidden behind a painting of an old man with a pipe, and the man had told Albus off for his messy hair.

The hallway itself was a lot worse than the painting had ever been. Albus suppressed another shiver and tried not to glance to either side. Dark, musty tapestries covered the walls of the hallway, and the only breaks between them were for ancient-looking brackets holding lit torches. Spider's webs were rampant around the brackets.

Albus bit down on his lip as he noticed a particularly fat arachnid fall from the bottom of the bracket and spiral down toward the floor on a single strand of silk.

It wasn't that he was _scared_ of spiders. Al was certain his life would have been more of a hell than it was if he had been. Every time James found something that bit or stung, he had a habit of throwing it at Al just to see how loudly he might scream.

No, Al wasn't scared of them.

They _were_ creepy, though. Just like the hallway they made their homes in.

_You're being a baby_, Albus told himself pointedly, but he still couldn't stop himself from peering uneasily over his shoulder as the dull thud of his footsteps echoed through the enclosed space.

When nothing but dancing shadows appeared to be behind him, Albus let out a long, unsteady breath. Living with James had made him more paranoid than he had previously suspected. That, or he really was just a coward. What sort of Potter was he, though, to be scared of a shortcut? It wasn't even a proper secret passage, and he was already near wetting himself!

Albus shook his head slowly at himself and folded his arms stubbornly over his chest. He was almost starting to wish James would come from the other direction, just so he could have someone insulting his bravery that he could retort back at.

It was sort of hard trying to argue how brave you were when the guy saying you were a wimp was, well, _you_.

The sound of voices and laughter filtering into the gloom made Al pause for a moment, then hurry onward.

Al emerged onto a section of the staircase nearer to the sixth floor than the seventh. He didn't feel the need to complain, though, and instead allowed himself a relieved grin before starting up the staircase again, mindful of any invisible steps or movement from the staircase itself.

He passed several students on their way down to breakfast, and couldn't help but notice a few of the glances that were thrown askew at him. Al had thought that he had made his peace with being a Slytherin, but being this close to the Gryffindor common room he felt exposed.

A tall, pretty Gryffindor fifth year wrinkled her nose in disgust when she caught sight of Albus. Al's cheeks were already colouring even before she folded her arms over her chest and spoke. "Your commons is the other way, half-pint."

"I know that," Al muttered in return. Sometimes he really hated how he had inherited his mother's skin tone; it was really easy to see a flush against pale skin.

The girl lifted her chin to better stare down her nose at Al. "Well, you haven't got any business up here, have you? I just passed one of our Prefects – I can have Thomas escort you back to where you belong…"

For a moment Al didn't know quite how to respond. He had had some trouble in the first of the year with a few Slytherins, but until now he had escaped anyone from the other Houses saying anything to him.

He hadn't even _done_ anything to deserve this. What was the point?

"Hey, if you're going to be a little blighter and just sit there, I'll get him right n--"

The girl stopped abruptly as someone bounding down the stairs behind her grabbed her arm and used it as a counterbalance for his forward momentum. All Al had to do was note the flaming red hair, the bright blue eyes, and the heavy smattering of freckles over the culprit's nose to know who it was.

"'lo, Fred," he said awkwardly.

"Geroff," said the girl, shaking her arm free.

Fred actually looked hurt for a moment. "You don't have to be_foul_, Missy. It'll hurt my _feelings_."

The girl frowned darkly, giving Fred's shoulder a push to unbalance him. "Bugger off, Weasley. Get in your gear. While you're in the commons, tell Potter to get off his arse and get down to the pitch." She gave Fred one final shove as he pin-wheeled his arms, then shot Albus a nasty look before continuing on her way down the stairs.

Just like that, she was taking a door on the next landing and disappearing from view.

But that only meant that he had traded one harasser for another. Al winced inwardly as he swiftly glanced back to Fred who was watching the door Missy had disappeared through intently.

Fred had never been one of Albus's favorite cousins.

Seeming to remember Al was there, Fred turned a wide grin on his cousin. "Finicky, isn't she? Brenton likes me, though. See how she didn't make a fuss about me using the nickname? She about punched James out when he tried to use it. Threatened to ban Roger from the team when _he_ tried…"

_Great_. Albus frowned slightly as he judged the space he had available for getting around Fred. Fred talked nearly as much as the second year Hufflepuff girl Al had met a few weeks back, and he really didn't want to spend the time waiting for him to stuff it.

Also, he ran the risk of Fred deciding to turn as nasty as James if he stuck around. Fred was notorious for how quickly he could turn from a perfectly reasonable person, to the nasty prankster that he really was.

"Erm," Al tried, interrupting Fred as the older boy went into detail about the other reasons he was sure Missy Brenton liked him (and reminded Al terribly of how Scorpius liked to use him as a sounding board). "Have you, er, seen Vic? I needed to ask her about something…"

Fred took a moment to come out of the dreamy state he had slipped into, but when he did he simply lifted an eyebrow. Al winced. He_hated _it when Fred had that expression on his face, but nevertheless he forced a strained smile into place.

"Sorry," Fred said, but Al doubted he actually meant it. "What was it you were wanting, shortie?"

Al forced another smile and tried not to look directly into Fred's eyes as he stepped past him. "Don't mind it," he said, his mind made up. "I'll find her eventually if I keep wandering around lost, I guess."

"Don't be such a girl." Albus didn't turn around, but he could feel Fred grinning. Fred was about like James in that aspect – it really put him in a good mood when he could tell that he was getting under Al's skin. "If you're looking for Vic, you can likely find her down in the _library_."

Al turned then, but Fred was already bounding down the stairs in the direction Missy had gone, chortling merrily.

This… was just perfect. The one place Al had actually been a little wary of going, and that was the exact place his cousin had to be.

o------o

"Oh, Al, there's not _really _anything to be scared of, you know. I'm sure Mister Bones is a lovely old man."

Albus made a funny sort of face halfway through fighting off an unconvinced laugh, and grimacing.

Rose frowned when she saw it and roughly elbowed Al in the ribs.

"Hey!" he protested, rubbing the sort spot. "What'd you go and do—"

"Because you're being _stupid_," Rose retorted immediately. She lifted her nose up in the air then, considering the matter closed as she quickened her pace.

They were already nearly to the library doors now. Al could see a few students going in and out even now.

"Sorry," Michael said from behind Al, putting a hand hesitantly on the shorter boy's shoulder. "You've got to be braver than even Hodgin to match Rose today. She's being scarier than usual."

"I can _hear_ you," Rose tossed back over her shoulder.

Both boys winced and fell silent.

The three were still silent as they made their way into the library, but despite Rose's mood, Al was glad he had asked her and Michael to come. He didn't know if he would have been brave enough to go inside the place alone, especially after what James had told him about the librarian.

"Wicked," Michael said lowly, shooting Al a grin.

Al had to grin back once he followed the fair haired boy's gaze up and up at the towering shelves all around.

There were more books and bookshelves than Albus had ever seen. Thick, heavy tomes were stacked everywhere on the dark carpeting, and the shelves that the majority of the books were on were packed so close together that all sound had a strangely muffled quality inside the enormous room.

Al imagined that the strangely zig-zagging corridors the shelves formed would make for an intimidating maze if a person didn't know where they were going. The thought made Al grin a little to himself. Since James spent next to no time in the library, he imagined it would be interesting to lure his brother into the centre of the library, leave him, and then wait to see how long it took him to find his way out.

Michael swore, breaking Al free from his thoughts. Al glanced up just in time to see a large encyclopedia dive for his head from the ceiling, its pages rattling menacingly in the air flow.

"Move!" Michael called, jumping out of the way himself. Rose covered her mouth to muffle a shriek as Al did the only thing he_could_ do – drop straight to the floor and quickly lie flat as the encyclopedia whooshed by inches from his nose, flapping its covers to keep aloft. As they watched, it slowly settled to a stop, snapping its covers closed and sliding into a vacant spot on the shelf behind them.

"Merlin's pointy beard," Michael breathed, reaching out a hand toward where Al was still lying on his back.

Al took the hand up, and looked around uneasily once he was standing to see if any other books were looking to wallop them. "Is that the only…?" he asked. Al blinked slightly when he noticed the tremor in his voice and let his question trail off.

"Looks it." Michael lifted both eyebrows, looking around as well.

"There are a lot more books flying—" Rose said, but held out a hand when both boys winced and started to duck. "—but they're all a lot higher up. Go on. Have a look."

Al reluctantly did as he was told and immediately regretted it. The books were flying up near the ceiling and continually swooping down to replace themselves into the shelves. As if that wasn't bad enough, the books seemed to be traveling in packs.

Groups.

Flocks.

Whatever you called a great bunch of books flapping around together.

"I guess we were lucky it was only one," Al said, offering a shaky grin.

"No."

Al turned at the voice, his mouth dropping open as he saw who was speaking.

"You were lucky there aren't any _exams_ close at hand, otherwise I'd have an ear from each of you for disturbing the quiet."

The librarian (for who else could it be reprimanding them on quiet in the library, Al thought) was everything James had warned. For once, it seemed that his older brother had not been lying through his teeth. Bones looked exactly how his name would suggest. Every inch of him that Al could see was bony and angular. The old man's hands looked as if there was barely anything left of them but bones with a thin layer of skin stretched over the top. Mister Bones' face even looked like a skull – an illusion that his lack of hair lent itself well to.

"Care to explain what you're doing in my library?" Bones asked, crooking one gnarled finger at the three one by one. Albus found his gaze transfixed by the liver spots and the too-visible veins that covered the old man's hand.

Rose was the first to speak. "We were just… just…"

"Just walking with our friend here," Michael said, jumping in to the rescue. Rose shot him a thankful little smile.

"And…" Al felt his throat close up when Bones' sharp blue eyes focused on him, but he plowed on. "…I… was here to look… something… up for class."

Bones considered them for a long few moments, and Al felt almost certain that they were about to get detentions. His stomach was already starting to tie itself into unpleasant knots at the idea.

Finally, Bones laid out his verdict. "You two," Bones nodded sharply to Rose and Michael. "Out. The boy doesn't need _moral support_ in a _library_."

He turned his gaze on Albus then, and Al found himself wondering if Bones had suddenly gotten a lot taller, or if possibly he was melting from fear. "As for you… you get your business done and get out, boy. The founders forbid you make another peep in my library, though."

After Rose and Michael left, Al had never felt more relieved in his life to see his eldest cousin's long blond hair.

Victoire looked up from the paper she had been bent over and smiled as Al sat down across from her. "Hullo there, Al," she greeted, reaching across the table to ruffle his hair fondly. "How're you holding up?"

Al knew that she meant more along the lines of how he was holding up in Slytherin rather than how he was holding up in his first year at Hogwarts in general. It still made his stomach clench a little when he thought about what the rest of the family might be thinking. James and Fred he could figure out easily enough – they still thought he was a good ball to kick around and hadn't really had it sink in that he'd been Sorted into Slytherin. As soon as it really hit them, Al was prepared to deal with their sneers.

He still didn't know about the rest of the family, though. Almost everyone else would lie if they didn't really like where he had ended up and say that they didn't think any differently about him.

"Al?" Victoire was frowning in concern now. "Are you okay?"

Al blushed as he realized he had been staring down at the table in silence, thinking things through. "I'm just tired," he lied.

Victoire's frown didn't disappear, but she nodded. She was going to accept his answer for now even if she didn't believe it. "Alright, then. Do you need help with homework, or did you just stop by for a chat?"

"A question, actually," Al said, and hurried to pull the map from the pocket of his robes.

o-------o

While Albus was talking to Victoire, Rose and Michael had needed to leave for Ravenclaw tower to get the books for their next class. The shadows outside were starting to lengthen when Al finally managed to meet up with Rose and Michael again to let them know what he had found out.

In Eric Lepine's words, Scorpius was still being a bit of a nosy git. When Albus had gone to their dormitory to drop off his books, the pale boy had invited himself along.

"Oh," Rose said, the grin dropping from her face as she noticed Scorpius' walking along behind Al.

Michael quickly jumped in to smooth things over. "Malfoy! You decided to join up for this weird adventure, too?" He glanced to Albus, quirking an eyebrow. "We _are_ going on a weird adventure, right? Your cousin didn't think it was some sort of joke, did she?"

Albus shook his head. "Vic said it _looked_ like Teddy's writing." She had also said that Al was lucky she liked him well enough not to tell anyone he was going to try out a secret map, but he wasn't going to tell Rose that. What he _did_ need to tell Rose was going to be bad enough.

"I wonder where your secret map leads, then?" Rose asked, putting a finger to her bottom lip and frowning. "Teddy really should have sent more instructions…"

"Maybe that would spoil the fun of it if he wrote anything else," Michael suggested, lifting one shoulder.

Rose nodded, accepting the point before she shifted her gaze to Albus again. "Okay, so do we go have a look now? It'll be curfew really soon, you know. And we mustn't still be looking around by then, or Caretaker Filch will have something to say."

"Something to cackle, more like," Michael muttered under his breath. "The foul git."

Rose glared.

"Well…" Al began.

Scorpius snorted, tired of how slowly the conversation was going. "Potter thinks we should go after hours. We'll meet outside the infirmary at one in the morning."

Albus shot his friend an incredulous glance. "That's what _you_ said we should do," he tried, but Scorpius was still talking.

"Unless neither of you want to see where it goes, that is. I suppose I really couldn't fault you if you weren't brave enough…"

Michael laughed softly at the expression on Rose's face. "I'm in."

"I. Am. Not. Scared," Rose ground out, her eyebrows knitting together. "You said one, right? We're leaving at half past, Michael."

Albus blinked, watching in amazement as Rose seized Michael's arm and marched him off.

"What did I tell you, Potter?" Scorpius drawled, a small smirk on his lips. "I don't see why you were so worries about asking them to come. Though, really, I don't see why you _want_ the both of them around, but that's your decision…"

Silently, Al shook his head. He had been almost convinced that Rose wouldn't approve of breaking the rule about not going out after curfew. Sometimes he thought it was a little scary how Scorpius always seemed to know just what to say to get people to do what he wanted.

Oblivious to Al's thoughts, Scorpius nodded to where he could see the Charms professor coming down the grand staircase on his way to the Great Hall for dinner. "_God,_ I wish he would show a little more decency, don't you? He spends an entire day harassing the class about turning in the homework in time in order for him to have time to get it graded, and then he goes down to dinner _early_." Scorpius shook his head in disgust.

Albus let Scorpius continue talking on the subject of his least favorite class on their way into the Great Hall where Michael and Rose were already seated, but he didn't actually listen – he was trying to work out just what he was trying to prove by using the map.

His parents wouldn't care if he did anything particularly brave in school. They really wouldn't. For some reason, though, it just didn't seem right to not go and do anything daring after his brother had had so many adventures.

And his dad! His dad had had adventures that not even James could come close to.

Albus bit his lip. Yes, he would follow the map. It might not lead to anything interesting (he _hoped_ it wouldn't lead to anything interesting), but at least he could say that he had done something. It would make him feel a little better.


End file.
